Future of the Mockingjay
by TheGirlOnFire29
Summary: The wars between the Capitol and the Rebels have come and past. Everyone is living different, peaceful lives... except for Katniss Everdeen. After her tremendous loss of her fellow tributes and Prim, will her life ever be the same again?
1. Recalling the Games

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the title (The Hunger Games) or any of the characters related to it. The book and characters all belong to SUZANNE COLLINS.**

_Hey, I just want to say thanks if you're reading this... also please REVIEW! :-) This is my first story and I really hope you all like it!_

_12/05/13  
__Edit - Hi again, so I decided to do a major re-editing of this whole story, since there are a few things I would like to change (but nothing really too major, mostly just writing style). I appreciate all of you who have read it and left reviews; it was a really awesome experience for my first story! Feel free to re-read it, and tell me if you like the changes I make!_

_(I will mark the chapters I have re-edited with *)_

* * *

*CHAPTER 1: RECALLING THE GAMES

A robin perches on the windowsill, bellowing the first tones of my morning, and I groggily sit up. I rub my eyes, searching the empty bed beside me. For a second, I am taken back to that fateful morning so many years ago. The morning of my very first reaping.

Over the years, I have learned something – it is hard to forget. It is hard to push away memories when you are constantly reliving them over and over in your nightmares. And there are many things I would be happy to forget.

My very first Hunger Games, where I almost gave up my own life. The brutal Quarter Quell, which cruelly thrust previous victors back into the arena, taking away the lives of almost all my fellow tributes. The list could go on and on.

I count off the names of all the lost souls. Finnick is gone. The sweet, flirty boy from District 4 is no more. A tear rolls down my cheek as I whisper the last name.

_Prim._

I, Katniss Everdeen-Mellark, had watched as my sister was burned to ashes. Her screams still pierce my ears, the image of her flaming body dancing behind my eyelids even when I am awake.

My body slowly starts to crumple and descend toward the mattress, until I am lying with my face pressed up against the sheets, trying to stifle the sobs that are coming. Tears form small puddles and make the soft fabric cling to my face, and I try to stop.

_I need to be brave. Not just for Peeta, but for my children as well._

I sigh. I really need to get up.

"Katniss?" Peeta whispers. He slowly makes his way to the bed, and I hear the creak and groan of each protesting floorboard as he painfully closes the distance between us.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, stroking my hair. He pulls me into his chest and I sob more freely, throwing my arms around his strong neck.

"I'm sorry!" I manage to say, between hysterical crying.

"Shh, Katniss, you have nothing to apologize for," he replies, pulling me closer. He rocks me back and forth for a while, and then my lips find their way to his.

At first, his eyes scrunch up from the salty taste of my tears, and then our lips start to move in their familiar pattern, fitting together the way they always have.

After a moment, a soft knock sounds on our door. Peeta and I stop, and I furiously scrub my face with my sleeves.

A small voice comes from the other side, "Mommy, Daddy?"

"Come in," Peeta and I say simultaneously.

Tiny, padded footsteps slowly form a rhythm as my daughter makes her way into our room. She crawls into my lap, and I kiss the top of her head.

"Good morning, my precious Rue," I say.

Yes, Rue is her name. She is not yet old enough to know of her namesake – the brave little girl from District 11 who had been my ally in my first Hunger Games. She had died in my arms as I sung her the lullaby my children hear every night.

"Good morning!" she greets brightly as Peeta kisses her nose.

"Let's go eat some breakfast, ok?" Peeta says, taking her hand and leading her out of the room. I am grateful for him giving me time alone.

After they leave, I take a quick shower and change into my usual pants and shirt. I tug on my father's leather boots and braid my hair down my back.

I look at myself in the mirror. My steely gray eyes stare back at me. Though time and grief have changed me in irreversible ways, I am still Katniss Everdeen… just with an extra name attached.

When Peeta and I got married, it was no fancy event. I had insisted on keeping "Everdeen," but agreed to add "Mellark" to the end. It was held at our house, with Haymitch as the Pastor and my mother and Greasy Sae as our only guests. I'm sure Peeta's family would have come as well, had they not perished in the bombings. I shake my head, trying to clear the image of Capitol planes dropping bombs on District 12 and setting my home on fire.

Of course, there was one more seat that should have been filled. One more face that I would have loved to see that day.

Gale.

It was a face that was once as familiar as the one I see in the mirror now. It was also a face that I haven't seen in over twenty years.


	2. A Reunion

*CHAPTER 2: A REUNION

"Good morning," Peeta cautiously greets me as I sit down at the table.

"Good morning," I reply, sliding a pancake onto my plate. "Sorry about… you know."

"Katniss, there's nothing to be sorry about on your part, okay?"

"Mommy, look! I helped make the pancakes!" Rue exclaims, waving one in the air.

I laugh and ruffle her hair, "They look great, Rue!"

"I'll go check if Finnick's awake," Peeta says.

I get a chill when he says that, even though I know Peeta's just going to check on our son, not going to check if Finnick Odair has risen from the dead. Finnick, my younger son by two years, is still probably sound asleep. I knew it was a bold choice to name my children after dead tributes, but I decided that it was one of the best ways of paying my respects to them.

_KNOCK KNOCK_

"Hold on, Rue, I'll go get the door," I say, jumping up. "Who is it?" I call out.

"A friend," a deep, rough voice replies. I freeze on the spot, my breath catching in my throat. I stumble towards the door and fumble with the lock before jerking it open.

Standing on my doorstep is a man with dark brown hair that flops lazily over his gray eyes. His body is muscular and tanned, and he smiles at me with perfect teeth. It is the face I have seen constantly in my dreams and nightmares; the face I once knew so well, maybe even loved, for a while. In his hand is a bouquet of daisies.

"Surprise," he mutters.

I stare at him uncomprehendingly as a million questions run through my head.

Finally, I manage to get a word out. "Gale?"

"Um, yeah, who else?" he grins, causing a sharp pain in my chest. "Now are you going to let me in, Catnip?" he asks impatiently.

"Gale!" I cry, leaping over the threshold and into his arms. I laugh and cry at the same time, hugging him tightly against me. I don't know how long we stand there, trying to make that one hug stretch out over all those lost years behind us.

In that moment, I am reminded of home. I am reminded of hunting in the woods early in the morning, of the thrill I used to get every time I snuck beyond the fence. I am reminded of laughter, of family. I am reminded of my best friend.

"Catnip," he whispers. And in that moment, I know that he, too, is reminded. I know that he remembers.

"Gale?" Peeta says from behind me.

Something about the tone in Peeta's voice snaps me back to reality, and I hastily step away from Gale, my cheeks warm. The pieces of my past start to slowly fall away again as I move to stand next to Peeta, my eyes trained on the floor.

"Peeta?" Gale asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks between Peeta and me.

"I… I should've told you," I start. But I stop myself. Peeta places his arm around me. I haven't seen Gale in over twenty years; he's the one who has some explaining to do.

"Mommy, what's going on?" Rue asks, poking her head out from behind me.

Peeta's arm around me stiffens, and my breath catches in my throat as we both keep our eyes locked on Gale.

"Mommy," he whispers, a dazed look on his face. He takes a deep breath and looks up at us. I brace myself for his anger, or sadness, ready to take whatever was coming.

"Congratulations, guys. I'm really… happy for you," Gale says effortlessly.

I breathe out, relieved. "Thanks Gale," I say, hugging him again. This time I don't feel ashamed. I used to feel the weight of all those years we spent apart, as if it was something that physically pushed us further away from each other. Somehow, that weight has lifted. Not completely, but enough to make a difference.

_We can start over_, I tell myself_._ I add those years to my long list of things to forget.

"Come in," Peeta says as he swings open the door.


	3. Heartbreak All Over Again

*CHAPTER 3: HEARTBREAK ALL OVER AGAIN

"Nice place you got here," Gale comments, nodding his head in approval.

"Thanks." Peeta's voice is friendly, but guarded. He eyes Gale warily as he enters our house.

My throat closes up and my heart starts thrumming frantically. I should be happy to see Gale after all these years, but my nervousness and anxiety outweigh my excitement.

"I'm going to bring Rue upstairs; Peeta, why don't you offer Gale some breakfast," I say, taking Rue's hand. The short walk to Rue's bedroom is just enough to slightly calm my nerves. When I enter the kitchen, I find Gale and Peeta tensely sitting across from each other, a cup of coffee in each of their hands. The silence is unnerving.

"So, Gale," I say, sitting down next to Peeta, "tell me, what's new with you?"

He shrugs, sipping his coffee, "Nothing much."

I look at him expectantly, struggling to hide my irritation. "Gale, you can't basically disappear for more than twenty years and then come back and say 'nothing happened!' You didn't even come to our wedding." He winces at the last part.

"Sorry about that," he says, looking at Peeta for a second and then back to me. "I would've come, but I didn't get an invitation."

"I had no way of contacting you, Gale. You didn't leave me with anything. No number, no address. Nothing," I explain, my voice a little uneven. "I even asked my mom to find you. She works at a hospital in District 4, so I thought she'd be able to get to you… but obviously it didn't work out."

"So what have you been up to, Gale? Where do you live now?" Peeta asks, putting his arm around me. Almost instinctively, he tucks a loose strand of my hair back behind my ear.

Gale's hand clenches around his mug, and the skin over his knuckles goes white. For a second I am afraid the mug will break under the pressure, but he takes a slow breath, and I watch the blood flow back into his fingers.

"I've been staying in District 2," he says, looking down at his coffee. "I'm a Capitol Representative."

Peeta and I look at each other. A Capitol Representative, in my opinion, is just a tame Peacekeeper. Years ago, in this very district, I had put myself between a Peacekeeper's whip and Gale bloodied back. But Capitol Representatives are not as violent anymore. Their job is to make sure the district is functioning well, to provide connections to the Capitol, and to look out for the citizens of their district. As far as I know, they are the highest-ranking positions in the districts.

"Wow, Gale, congratulations!" I say, smiling at him.

"Yeah, thanks," he says, trying to smile back. He settles with a shrug.

"Have you… settled down yet?" Peeta asks tentatively. "If you don't mind me asking," he adds.

"No, it's fine," Gale replies, turning a little red. "And to answer that," he turns the mug in his hands, "well, no."

I blink in shock. I remember all too well how the girls in District 12 would practically throw themselves at Gale back when we were younger. Surely, someone as handsome as he is could get any girl he wanted.

"So tell us more about your job," I say, quickly changing the subject.

His shoulders relax, and he looks up, "Well I know what you're probably thinking. A Peacekeeper and a Capitol Representative seem grimly familiar positions, don't they? Well, it's actually a lot better knowing from the inside. Everyone is one whole community right now. Living in a district would be like living in a suburb, with the Capitol as the big city. We don't work to serve them; we work to supply our family. Each district uses its resources mainly for their residents, although we still trade for different goods.

"So the Capitol Representatives just help keep things in order. I guess you would call them guards, or police, but whipping and execution have long been banned, and prisons have been set up. We also provide our district with things they need, if they are to run low on supply of that item. And of course, we maintain the connections with the Capitol to the district. For cable, electricity, maintenance, all that stuff.

"Honestly, I think Capitol Representatives help out a lot, and I can tell they really care for the districts. We have monthly meetings at the Capitol." He seems eager for the change in topic, and he speaks more freely and easily.

I take in all the details and information slowly, processing it in my mind. "So why District 2?" I ask softly.

He knows my real question.

_Why did you abandon me? Why did you walk away from your home – our home – and never look back? Doesn't District 12 mean anything to you anymore?_

"Katniss," he starts out. He stops suddenly when a single tear rolls down my cheek. His face contorts in pain, and his arms rise, reaching out to me, as though he wants to hug me. Peeta wipes away my tears with a kiss.

"Catnip, you know I can't stand it here," he mutters darkly, dropping his hands. "Not with all of this going on," he gestures between Peeta and I.

"Well, you should've called or told her somehow!" Peeta bursts out. "Do you know how heartbroken she was? How many nights I've held her in my arms, listening to her sobs?"

"I never wanted it to be like this Mellark," Gale growls.

Time has not improved their relationship. I was foolish enough to think it was going to be as peaceful between them as it was when we attacked the Capitol. They were friends. I should have known better.

"Well, you've hurt her too much; I think you should leave," Peeta says firmly, standing up.

Gale rises as well, and I follow.

"Gale, wait," I plead, but he is already halfway to the door.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come back in the first place. The truth is, Catnip, I still love you," he says, his back turned to me.

I freeze and instantly look at Peeta, his jaw strained, fists clenched.

"I never stopped loving you," Gale continues, turning around to face me. "Through all these years. Never." He takes a tentative step forward. "Katniss, leaving you was the stupidest thing I've ever done. I'm so sorry. Please–"

"Gale," I cut him off, taking a step back, "I think you should leave now." I take Peeta's hand. He is strong and warm and comforting. He is what I need.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Katniss." Gale's steely gray eyes are full of sadness. Suddenly I see the teenage boy in front of me who I grew to love all those years ago. The boy who worked so hard to feed his family, to protect those he loved. To protect me. I start to reach out to him, but Peeta is quicker.

"Not only did you desert her when she needed you most," Peeta says, grasping my hand firmly, "but it was your parachutes that set her baby sister on fire."

The room is quiet. So quiet I could hear a pin drop.

Gale's face is full of hurt and regret, and I crumple to the floor, burying my head in my hands. The images flash behind my eyes once more. Fiery yellow and orange flames engulf my vision, and I am on fire. I press my eyes shut, forcing the image away, but it stays. She stays.

"Prim," I whimper, tears rolling down my face.

Peeta kneels down and gently takes my hands in his. I look at Peeta, and my shock is mirrored in his face. He is usually so careful with what he says. "Katniss, I- I- I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to, please don't be upset."

"Great job, Peeta," Gale says, his voice cold as ice.

"You know the way out," Peeta replies simply.

I hear the door click into place as Gale walks out, and I stand up, drying my tears for the second time that morning.

"I'm tired of crying," I say to Peeta. I reach up on my toes and kiss him fiercely. He kisses me back for a while, and then restrains me.

"Katniss, you don't have to hide your feelings from me. It's okay."

"I'm going hunting," I reply bluntly, pecking him on the cheek before turning around. I open the closet by the door and take out my bow. Slinging it over my shoulder, I grab my sheath filled with arrows.

"Be back before dinner," Peeta whispers, suddenly beside me. I let him embrace me and accept his long, sweet kiss before I walk out the door.

I step outside, closing the door, and smell flowers. I turn to the windowsill, but there are only small buds, not yet fragrant enough to reach my nose. Instinctively, I look down, and I see on the ground the scattered remains of Gale's bouquet of daisies. I step on them, kicking and stomping before taking off full speed toward the meadow.

The weight presses down on me again, squeezing my chest and making me feel weak. The sound of my blood pumping fills my ears as I race through the streets.

No matter what I tell myself, Gale and I will always have something. We will always have a bond. He makes me feel happy, confused, frustrated, sad, and excited all at once. I used to love him. And then I realized that that kind of love is toxic, because the ones you love are the ones who can hurt you the most. And I used to love Gale very, very much.


	4. The Comfort of The Forest

CHAPTER 4: THE COMFORT OF THE FOREST

There is still a gate there, but only to protect us from the wild, not to restrain us from it. On the gate there is now a door, outlined with steel poles. I do not pause to listen for the hum; there is no electrified fence anymore.

I kick open the gate and run into the forest, ignoring the leaves and branches that whip my face as I speed by. It is fall now, slowly approaching winter, and the leaves are scattered on the floor, a beautiful mess of orange, brown, and gold.

I run towards the familiar rocky ledge, where Gale and I had sat so long ago, back when things were normal. We had mocked Effie Trinket's ridiculous Capitol accent, and eaten Gale's bread and cheese from Prim's goat, lady.

_Prim._

My innocent little sister; her undying love to protect and heal had led to her own death. I still remembered everything so clearly; the colors were still so vivid in my mind. The little children, used as a human barrier to protect the rebels from President Snow; the little children, who received the little silver parachutes floating down towards them. Ironically enough, those were the parachutes from the Hunger Games, and signified hope. Usually it would be filled with something the tribute needed: medicine, food, or weapons. That time, it was filled with bombs. These bombs would go off not once, but twice. Exploding fireballs that incinerated the children.

After the first explosion went off, I still remembered how the rebel hospital workers had rushed to the scene. I remembered the little figure with the piece of fabric sticking out; her little duck tail.

And then the second explosion came.

I clasp my hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to cry for the third time that day; some memories are not easy to bear. She was so young, so fragile.

And I remembered the conversation with Gale that had ended our friendship. I had asked him squarely if it had been his parachutes that killed Prim.

And suddenly Gale was in my head, the memory of him so real that I expected to see him in front of me right then.

"_You didn't come see me in the hospital." He doesn't answer, so finally I just say it. "Was it your bomb?"_

"_I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."_

I remember how he waited for my to deny it, and how I didn't. How my only answer was silence. I wanted to reassure him, to resolve it somehow, but I just stood there like a deer in the headlights.

"You stupid girl," I mutter to myself.

I shrug off my sheath and watch as the arrows, all in their neat rows, start rolling out.

_Just look at me, I'm pathetic._

I grab all my arrows again and stand up. _Might as well make myself useful._

So I start out into the silent forest, listening for sounds of nearby life. A flash of chocolate brown stands out from the leaves to my left, and I raise my bow, placing an arrow in it. I aim it at the unsuspecting rabbit, closing an eye. Almost instantly after I release it, the rabbit is on its side, an elongated, thin arrow sticking out from its eye. My specialty had always been killing smoothly and neatly.

I caught a couple more rabbits, and then decided to head out to the Seam, which had been quickly repopulated after the war ended.

As I made my way over to Greasy Sae's, I smile and greet the familiar faces that past. One familiar face, stumbling amongst the crowd with a bottle in his had, stands out from the rest. I sigh, making my way towards the drunken man.

"Haymitch, stop drinking yourself dizzy or you'll end up barfing on someone," I say, taking the bottle from my mentor.

"Hey! Look, it's Katniss Everdeen! How you doin' sweetheart?" he asks, leaning to me. I gag at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

"I'm fine Haymitch, and you?" I reply, leaning away.

"Well aren't you the polite one? I remember back in the day when you were all spunky and fierce," he drabbles.

"Yeah, yeah, you're glory days are long gone too old man," I say.

"Watch it sweetheart. You off to Greasy Sae's?" he asks, looking at the bundle of rabbits on my back.

"Yes, and speaking of which, I better get going. Do me a favor and try not to fall asleep in a bar again, Haymitch."

He chuckled, turning around in the direction of his favorite bar. "No guarantees, sweetheart, no guarantees!" he calls, waving his hand and disappearing around the corner.


	5. Annie

CHAPTER 5: ANNIE

I reach Greasy Sae's, and politely nod at the people sitting drinking and eating her hot soup. Greasy Sae had always been a favorite, and she had been Gale's friend and mine ever since our illegal hunting started. I set my load down on the counter, trying not to shake the wobbly wooden stall too much. Of course Greasy Sae was offered a proper building-type structure for her 'restaurant' but she would always prefer her rickety, old wooden stall that I loved so much.

"Hey, Greasy Sae!" I yell out, sitting down on a stool. "Greasy Sae it's me, Katniss!"

A frail yet tough old woman wobbles into my view, her hair in a wild mess and her hands greasy with oil. She smiles at me, showing the gap where her two front teeth should be.

"Greasy Sae, I brought you another load," I say, pushing three rabbits toward her. The other two are still slung over my back.

"Thank you dear, I know just what to do with these beauties," she praises, patting my hand. Then she yells over her shoulder, "Hey Bill, give me a hand will you?"

A large, round man came up behind her. His head was so shiny; it reflected the dull lighting above. He grins and waves, and I smile back, trying not to throw up as I take in the sight of his blood-spattered apron. The faded white cloth was now covered in a horrifying abstract painting of red. I was getting the vibe that he was the butcher.

"Gee thanks girl. I'll use these real well," he says, winking and then lugging the rabbits away.

"So, what'll you have sweets?" Greasy Sae asks, trying to wipe off the remains of the rabbit fur and blood of the counter with her hand.

"I'll have what everyone else is having," I say tiredly, resting my elbows on the counter.

"Oh, great choice. That'll be my special dog stew, coming right up!"

Soon enough, a piping hot bowl of dog stew is in front of me. I take my spoon and doubtfully ladle a scoop into my mouth. I chew through the meat and swallow down the soup, grateful for the warmth in my stomach.

"So… uh, well I might just be getting old here, but I thought I saw someone today," Greasy Sae starts, fiddling with a loose bit of string on her shirt.

I knew this was coming.

"Yes, Gale was here this morning," I say, taking the bowl in my hands and sipping.

"Well fancy that! I didn't recognize him at first! Such a man now, it's been…"

"Just about twenty or so years," I say. As if I needed to be reminded.

"Right, right. Twenty years," she says absentmindedly.

I stand up. "Well it was really great seeing you Greasy Sae, but I better get home now," I apologize.

"Right then," she says, giving me a quick squeeze on the hand. "Say hello to your kids for me, will you?"

I promised I would, and then set on my way back home.

As I opened the door, the first thing that hit me was the smell. Sweet, fragrant… and delicious!

"Peeta I'm home!" I call out, putting my things up. I take the rabbits to the kitchen and drop them in the sink. "Peeta?"

I look in the oven. Sure enough, sitting in neat little rows are pastries, rising by the minute. Peeta's been baking.

"Peeta, darling, I'm home!" I yell again, puzzled why he hasn't come down.

I walk upstairs, looking through the rooms. Both our kids were at school, and their rooms were empty. I came to our door, and I knock.

"Peeta?" I call out. No answer. "Peeta, I swear, if you are playing some stupid joke on me, then I'm going to-"

The door swings open just then, and Peeta is standing there. His face is pale white, and his beautiful blue eyes are red and puffy.

"Peeta?" I whisper, afraid to ask for an explanation. "Are Rue and Finnick… where are they?"

"No, no," he says, his voice strained, "they're ok."

"What's wrong?" I demand, pushing my way past him and into our room. I look around for any signs of danger, but everything seems just as we left it.

"Katniss, calm down," he says, putting his arms around me.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Peeta," I say, turning around to face him. I put my hands on either side of his face. "Tell me what's made you like this."

His face saddens as he sees the pain in my eyes. He kisses my cheeks. Then he pulls out a picture and holds it out in front of me.

In front of me, framed by the white shiny edges of a photograph, is Annie Cresta. Finnick Odair's widowed wife. She is still the beautiful woman I remember with the long, dark hair and sea green eyes.

"Annie?" I ask, looking at Peeta questioningly.

Then two words leave his mouth. Two words I've heard all too often.

"She's dead."


	6. Orange Sunsets

CHAPTER 6: ORANGE SUNSETS

I watch the trees whiz by at incredible speed. Slowly the sky turns to orange, and the sun starts to set. A memory flashes in my mind and Peeta's voice fills my head.

"_Let's start with something more basic. Isn't it strange that I know you'd risk your life to save mine… but I don't even know what your favorite color is?"_

I giggle. I had replied green, and he had said orange.

"_Orange, like Effie's hair?" I say._

"_A bit more muted," he says. "More like… sunset."_

"What's so funny over here?" Peeta asks, sitting down next to me. The train sped on quietly, and our children slept peacefully on the bed in the small room.

"I was remembering you telling me your favorite color was orange, like the sunset," I say, smiling at him.

I could see him struggling with the memory. Ever since he was hijacked, he had gotten much better. But there were still little gaps, missing memories that he had lost along the way.

"I can't remember," he mutters, frowning.

"That doesn't make it any less sweet or important," I remind him, leaning over to kiss him lightly.

He sighs.

"I just wish I didn't have to need reminding all the time," he confesses. "But as long as you're the one reminding me, I don't care."

I smile, and reach over to kiss him more. His lips are suddenly next to my ears.

"You love me. Real, or not real?" he asks.

I laugh. "Real."

After we rescued Peeta from the Capitol, he would go crazy asking questions about his life and then follow with the line: 'Real, or not real?' It was sort of a joke between us now, but I'm just glad he got over that phase.

I woke in the morning wrapped in Peeta's arms, lying on the bed. It was just like our old ride to the Capitol, except now there were two smaller bodies wedged in between us.

I yawn, and Peeta's eyes open slowly.

"'Morning," I greet him softly.

"Do you need to…?" he shifts a little bit.

"Oh, yes please."

He slowly untangles me from his arms while making sure not to wake Rue and Finnick. I get up and stretch, making my way to the bathroom.

District 4 would be coming up soon enough, and I squinted my eyes out the window to see through the faint misty morning.

I had written a letter to my mother, explaining that we would visit District 4 to see Annie and her. I had asked her how Annie was before her tragic death, and it didn't seem very good.

Ever since mutant lizards murdered Finnick Odair during our mission to destroy the Capitol, Annie was never the same. To make matters more complicated, only about two or three months later, their beautiful baby was born. Annie went back to her home, District 4 and settled down with her parents. Occasionally she would send letters our way, talking about their son, and how she'd sometimes see my mother at the hospital. But I had thought she was slowly healing, slowly getting better. I guess I thought wrong.

I take a shower quickly and get dressed, and when I came out Rue and Finnick had woken up. The bubbly six-year-old girl was staring out the window, watching the world stroke by. The quiet, shy four-year-old boy was sitting with Peeta, listening to him read a book.

I greet them and they crawl into my lap.

"Mommy are we there yet?" Finnick asks impatiently, pouting a little.

I smile at his displeased expression; he was trying to act tough. "Almost, Finnick."

I was worried of what Annie's family would think of my son's name. I was nervous. Will they find it disgusting or see the respect behind his name?

Peeta senses my distress, and he catches my eye across the room. I shake my head, telling him not to worry.

After we get the kids all dressed we go out for breakfast.

They had made more trains like the ones we used going to the Hunger Games but these were all for public use. It was convenient and provided faster transport to other cities.

"Mommy why are we going to the water district again?" Rue asks.

"Fishing district," I quickly correct her. "We're going to see your grandma… and a few old friends."

"How old?" Finnick asks, his mouth full of egg.

"Old as in… the Hunger Games," Peeta fills in. This makes the kids' jaws drop, their eyes big.

How many times did I wake up in the morning, full of thanks that my children weren't born into the kind of world Peeta and I had lived in? To them, the Hunger Games was horrible history, a thing of the past. They were almost fictional to them, until they would see the videos when they're old enough.

To Peeta and I, the Hunger Games was a part of who we were. They were a part of _our_ history; we had played a role in the bloodbath.

My children knew this was a dangerous and sensitive subject; they'd learned to stop talking about it. But I still see the older kids in High School, coming out of the schools with terror and fear in their eyes, after they're shown the recorded footage of the Hunger Games.

Rue has seen the book, but she doesn't fully understand. To her it is a historical picture book, and she barely notices anything but the elaborate drawings by Peeta.

After breakfast is done we all pack our stuff, ready to leave. We near District 4, and the saltwater smell of the ocean pollute the train. The children take it in with wonder, finding delight in the fascinating new smell. Peeta and I smile and play along, though inside we are screaming.


	7. District 4

CHAPTER 7: DISTRICT 4

"This is it," Peeta says, and we all stop walking. "47 Arrowhead Lane… just about right."

I look up at the small, quaint cottage, and it resembles our very first home in District 12. The mossy vines climbed up the ivory wall, and primroses bloomed from the windowsill. A small, 'WELCOME' mat in the shape of a cat lies in front of the door. It reminds me of Buttercup, Prim's now-dead cat.

I walk up the steps and knock on the wooden door. I hear faint footsteps, and it's a three-part rhythm. Slowly it gets nearer to the door, and then it creaks open. A wooden cane sticks out first, and then my mother is revealed from behind the door.

"Mom," I whisper, dropping my luggage and hugging her tightly.

"Oh Katniss, my dear," she says, stroking my hair.

"It's nice to see you again, Ms. Everdeen," Peeta greets, accepting her hug.

My mother's fair hair had turned sliver, and her face was ridged with lines around her eyes and mouth. She hobbles on her cane (the cause of the three-part rhythm) proudly, though, and her passion for saving lives had never faded. Her simple frock was stained with flour, and when she smiled, her eyes crinkled up like an accordion. I guess smiling was pretty rare for her.

"Grandma!" Rue and Finnick call in appreciation. Rue gracefully runs into her arms while Finnick wobbles over more slowly.

"Hello my dears! Oh, you've gotten so big!" she exclaims, doting over them as Peeta and I lug the bags inside.

"What do you think of the place?" mother asks, letting go of the kids' hands. They scream and run all over the house.

"It's lovely, but I think I better restrain Rue and Finnick before we have to pay for damage repair," I say, smiling. "Rue! Finnick!" I run around, chasing them until finally we are all collapsed on the couch, and I'm grinning in victory.

"No fair mommy," Finnick says. "You were in the Hunger Games."

I look at him, surprised, and Rue puts her fingers to her mouth. "Shh!"

"Let's all have some lunch, how does that sound now?" mother says tensely, making her way into the kitchen without waiting for a response.

We follow her and I'm surprised to see my favorite dish from the Capitol sitting on the table: lamb stew with plums. I never thought I'd taste it again!

Mother laughs at my expression, and she pushes it to me. "I remembered you liked this stuff so much, so I decided to make some for you."

"Thank you," I say, my mouth already watering as I pile my plate high, and then fill Rue and Finnick's. We are all hungry and start shoving the food down our throats.

...

"So how is Annie's family doing?" I ask my mother as we sit on the couch. Peeta and the children are playing outside; I can hear their laughter.

"Not too well," she says, her face growing grim. "Ever since she came back here, she's been moody and paranoid all the time. Poor Matt isn't doing too well."

"Matt?"

"Their son. He's twenty-one now, and well off enough to take care of himself, but he's very shaken over loosing his mother," she explains.

_Oh, that's right. Annie and Finnick's son was born right after the war ended!_

"His whole childhood was very traumatic," she continues. "It's almost as if the roles were switched. Ever since he was twelve he's been the one watching out for his mother. She used to have seizures, and she would always cover her ears and eyes, as if she just wanted to disappear…."

I remembered Annie Cresta at District 13. How she would always hide from the world, always afraid. She was just another victim of the stupid Hunger Games. After watching her fellow tribute from District 4 being beheaded, she was never the same. But Finnick would always be there. His arms were always quick to shelter her. Without Finnick in her life, it almost surprised me she lived this long. I winced at the horrible thought.

"Where is Matt now?" I ask.

"Oh, he's still in District 4. He's working at the Justice Building down the road, if you want to see him," she says.

"I think I better go now, just to get it over with," I say, rising up.

"It's been a long trip, dear, are you sure you don't want to wait?"

"No, I better go do it now. The funeral's tomorrow and I want to introduce myself beforehand," I explain.

I walk out door and look up at the sky, which is slowly fading. Shining faintly, the moon shown like a mirage in the sky. It was not yet night, but it will soon be.

"Mommy!" Finnick runs, waving his arms and clinging to my leg.

I laugh, picking him up and swinging him in a circle. He laughs in delight as we twirl around.

"Hey," Peeta says, coming up to me with Rue on his back. She smiles at me, and I can see that her eyelids are slowly drooping.

"Hey," I reply, kissing him lightly. "I'm going to go visit Annie and Finnick's son," I said quietly. "Do you want to come, or are you going to stay here and watch them?"

"Do you feel like it's something you need to do alone?" he asks.

I shrug.

"Come on kids, let's go inside," he says, making his choice clear. He gives me a final parting glance, and the door slams shut.

I slowly make my way down the street, which has barely changed since my last visit here over twenty years ago. I stare sullenly at the dry mud caking the ground, watching as my steps make little dust clouds around my boots. I smile at the people who pass by. Some smile back normally, while others' eyes bug out as they realize who I am. Five people stop to ask me if I really am the Mockingjay and then I have to sign something for them before I finally reach the tall Justice Building at the end of the long road.

I climb the stone steps, feeling awkward amongst the crowd of workers filing out to go home. All are dressed in black, white, and grey and chatter excitedly for the coming weekend. Usually weekends are great for me, unless I'm attending a funeral.

I walk inside the tall room, where people's shoes echo off the marble floor. They have now put in elevators and an additional fifteen floors. I walk to the service counter, greeting the lady working there.

She was obviously a Capitol Native who had come to live in a quieter District. I could tell by her faded, but still shocking, green hair and the jewels encrusted onto her cheeks. She smiled at me, showing off her gold teeth.

"What can I do for you Miss?" she asks brightly.

"Um, I'm looking for where I can find Matt…" I wasn't sure whether to say Cresta or Odair.

"Matt Odair?" she fills in, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's the one. Can you please tell me what floor he's on?" I ask politely.

"Um, well, I'm not sure if he's taking visitors right now, Miss…."

"Everdeen," I say, running a tired hand though my hair. "Well, could you at least tell him I called?"

She stared at me, her mouth slightly open.

"What?"

"Did you say _Everdeen_?" she asks, in awe. "As in _Katniss Everdeen_? The victor of the 74th Hunger Games, love interest of Peeta… the Mockingjay?" she breathes.

I sigh. "Yes, that'd be me."

She squealed. "Oh my gosh! I am _such_ a fan! You are, like, the best ever. Can I be honest? You're amazing!"

"Katniss Everdeen?" a voice says behind me.

I spin around to see a young man standing in front of me. His blonde hair is trimmed short and his sea green eyes look over me with surprise. Matt Odair.


	8. Remembered

CHAPTER 8: REMEMBERED

"Yes," I say, making my way over to shake his hand. "You must be Matt."

He shakes my hand too, trying to smile. "Yeah."

_Could this be any more awkward?_

"I was invited here for the funeral," I explain softly. "I just wanted to introduce myself quickly before tomorrow, but if you're on your way home, then don't let me bother you," I say, stepping back.

He runs a hand through his hair. "No, no it's fine. I was just on my way to get some coffee, would you like to come?"

We walked down the street as the sky slowly dimmed and the streetlights glowed faintly. Halfway to my mother's house, we stopped at a small building with glass windows. There were people inside all sipping from mugs and working on their laptops. The sign above the door read _A Cup Of Coffee_.

As we sat down and ordered our drinks, it seemed strangely quiet. I realized that we hadn't said a word to each other since we left the Justice Building.

"So…" I start, trying to break the ice, "how's business?"

_You idiot, you're supposed to talk to him about his mother, not his job!_

_Shut up!_

All this talking-to-myself nonsense was really getting annoying.

"It's fine," he replies absentmindedly, staring at the table. "So how did you meet my mom?" he asks all of a sudden, looking up at me with his blazing green eyes.

"I was actually a friend of your dad. We met at the 75th Hunger Games," I say.

His eyes reflect pain as I mention his father.

"I'm sorry," I automatically spit out. "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's ok, I asked," he says back. "And you and my dad were… fellow tributes, then?"

"Yes, we were good friends," I say sadly. The memory of Finnick Odair filled my mind, the handsome bombshell from District 4 who won the 65th Hunger Games at the age of fourteen.

Because of his good looks, President Snow – I cringed at the thought of him – would 'rent' him out to Capitol ladies, threatening to kill those he loved, should he refuse. At least Finnick was able to gain inside secrets about President Snow from the gullible ladies. Though everyone knew his one true love was Annie Cresta.

I remember the days we spent in District 13, agonizing over Peeta and Annie, still in the Capitol's control. The loss of Annie had unraveled him completely. Memories of Finnick huddled in a ball, crying, filled my mind. And then I saw him again, endlessly knotting a piece of rope together, and then undoing it. This went on for days until, eventually, I had to join him.

Yes, we were close. We shared the same burden while our hearts slowly ripped in half together.

"Your coffee," the girl interrupts, snapping me back to the present.

"Thanks," I reply softly, taking a sip.

"Are you ok?" Matt asks. "What just happened? You… zoned out."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just… remembering," I say.

"Remembering what?" he asks curiously.

I choose my words carefully. "Everything. When you live through the life that I've had, you learn there are some things you can not forget." The last part was a whisper. "No matter how hard you try."

"I'm sorry," was all he could assure me with.

"Me too."


	9. Flowers at a Funeral

_(A/N) Hey guys, so I know I usually don't put any Author's Notes in between my chapters, but I thought I'd add one... thanks to everybody for reviewing my story! This is my first story and I was really nervous! Reading your reviews make my day and keep me writing! :) THANK YOU SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU ALL!_

_P.S - Any suggestions? I know it's been kinda sad, do you want anything happy to happen? Any ideas? Please REVIEW! :) I want to know what you all think! ;)  
_

_- TheGirlOnFire29  
_

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CHAPTER 9: FLOWERS AT A FUNERAL

I look at Peeta, grasping his hand as if it was the one thing keeping me from floating up into space. "Ready?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I hope so," I say. "You go knock."

He squeezed my hand and then stepped forward in his crisp, black suit to rap three times on the door. The murmuring voices inside were hushed, and the door opened slowly.

"Katniss, you made it!" Matt says as I step forward to hug him. He was trying so hard to make his voice sound happy. Not an easy thing to do at a funeral.

"Hi, you must be Matt," Peeta says, shaking his hand. "I'm so sorry about your mother."

Matt's cheerful attempt stopped. "Thank you," he says, nodding his head. "And you must be Peeta, it's so nice to finally meet you."

We walk inside and I am hit with a wave of remorse and sadness. The large room is filled with walking figures of black. Ladies in back dresses and men in black suits. I clutch at Peeta's hand again as Matt brings an elderly couple towards us.

The man has gray hair and dull green eyes. His face sags and he is hunched over a stick. The woman's raven black hair, obviously dyed, is in a neat bun and her eyes are a striking color behind her glasses. They are right between blue and green. A wonderful color; like the sea on a perfect day.

"Katniss, Peeta, these are my grandparents," Matt introduces. A knock is heard again and Matt excuses himself to answer it.

For a while we stand there, unable to say anything. I just stare Peeta, waiting for him to say something.

"She spoke of you often," the man says, his voice cracking a little.

I look at him in surprise, still struggling with the right words.

"Annie used to say she wished she was brave, like Katniss," he continues, staring off into the distance. "When she had Matt she was so afraid, so confused." His eyes focus on me. "But she wanted to be brave, to be stronger. Just like you."

"Annie was an amazing person," I whisper.

"Indeed she was," the woman adds. "But you _inspired_ her, Katniss. You helped her live a little longer," she softly says.

I feel my prick, and I try to will the tears to stay down. She takes my hand in hers.

"Thank you so, so much, Katniss, for saving our daughter."

And then the tears overflow.

…

I press my hand to my mouth, trying not to make a sound. We are all standing in the garden as the Priest stands over the hole in the ground, containing Annie's coffin. The parents wanted her to be buried in their garden. Even when she was forever in sleep, they still wanted to protect her.

"Annie Cresta was a great woman. A loved daughter, wife, and mother," the Priest states, his voice ringing out. "We are all gathered here today to remember the wonderful person that she was, and to pay our respects." With that said, he steps back and motions to her parents.

The slowly walk forward and stand over her grave. Her mother opens her mouth, but starts crying instantly. Her father pats her back and steps closer. He takes a flower from the jar and looks down at the grave.

"When you were just a little girl," he starts, his voice barely audible, "you used to come out here and pick flowers just before winter would come. You'd pick so much, the house would be littered with flowers everywhere." He smiled faintly at the memory. "You said that you had to save them, that the cold would kill them if you didn't try. So you tried," he said softly, "you tried to help them survive." He drops the flower into the grave, unable to say more, and walks away with his wife.

Matt is the next to come.

"Hi mom," he greets, his voice wobbling. "I just want to let you know how grateful I am to you. Even when times were tough on us both, you stayed strong through it, mom. You showed me you were brave." Tears are running down his face. "But I saw how sad you were inside. How everything tormented you. You needed dad, and I saw that." He lets go of his flower. "I just hope you find him now."

People start coming up slowly. Heather the next door neighbor, Susie the baker down the street, Paul the hardware man, Mr. and Mrs. Stephens her closet friends, George the milkman, until there were only two more flowers in the jar.

Peeta and I step forward, and I motion for him to go first. He takes a flower and clears his throat.

"Hey, Annie. It's been a long time," he starts. "I remember when we were at the Capitol together. You were so brave, so determined," his voice trails off. "Annie you are one of the strongest people I've ever known. You've touched the lives of everyone here today, and you've raised a wonderful son. I'm so glad that I can look back and say that I knew you." He lets the flower float to the ground, and then it's my turn.

I slowly pick up the last flower, fingering the stem. I look down at the pale blue coffin, covered with flowers.

"I could not count on both my hands all the people who loved you," I say. I gathered the courage to go on. "When we were at District 13, and Finnick was waiting for you to be rescued, he was ripping apart at the seams, Annie. You meant the world to him. We both went crazy, both of us together," I say, my cheeks getting wet with the tears I can't control. "And then you came back, and it was like all the problems in the world disappeared. I know that feeling Annie," I pause to take Peeta's hand, "and all I can say is that it takes someone really special to be loved the way Finnick loved you. You are an amazing woman, and you were so brave to raise Matt the way you did. I know I speak for more than myself when I say that I am proud of you." I watch as the flower slips through my fingers and lands on the pile.

We step away as two men with shovels cover the coffin with dirt. I take the hand of Mrs. Cresta, who is sobbing uncontrollably. There is silence in the crowd and all you can hear is the dull thud of dirt as it hits the bottom and Mrs. Cresta's sobbing.


	10. Finnick

CHAPTER 10: FINNICK

"You're eyes are pretty," Rue admits shyly, smiling at Matt innocently. I roll my eyes.

"Thank you," Matt says, laughing. "Your eyes are pretty too."

She blinked, her baby blues standing out against her olive skin and dark hair. "I know."

I laughed. "Rue!"

It was the day after the funeral, and we invited Matt over to my mother's house.

"But it's true Katniss," my mother said, coming into the room and setting down a plate of cookies. "Hi, it's nice to meet you Matt, I'm Katniss' mother," she greets, giving him a hug.

I can see that it's difficult for him to have the word 'mother' mentioned.

"Thank you for the cookies," he says politely. She nods and disappears into the kitchen.

"Matt! You made it," Peeta says, coming downstairs.

They shake hands and we sit down on the couch. Matt is absolutely absorbed with Rue as she shows off magic tricks she learned at school. Finnick is upstairs sleeping, where I hope he will stay for a while. I'm just not ready to introduce him to Matt yet.

_Oh, Matt, this is my son. His name is Finnick! Do you mind if I named him after your dead father?_ I sighed. The whole voice-in-the-head thing was coming back.

"And that's how you make yourself disappear!" Rue was saying from behind the couch. You could see the tip of her toe poking out from the side of the couch. We laughed, clapping our hands.

"Thank you Ms. Magician!" Matt says, his eyes beaming. He sure was great with kids. He turns to Peeta and I. "Is she your only child?"

Just then, as if he was waiting for his cue, Finnick let out a yell from upstairs. I groaned. "No."

"I'll go get him," Peeta says, careful not to mention his name.

"So he's younger, I'm guessing?" Matt asks.

I laugh. "How ever could you tell?" I say sarcastically. "Matt," I add Rue bounds to the kitchen to find food, "you're great with kids, by the way."

He goes a little red. It seems he hasn't taken after his father, who practically lives for this kind of praise.

"Ha-ha, yeah I guess so. I used to babysit for extra money back in High School," he explains.

"Oh, that's very… noble of you," I say, nodding my head in approval. "Your mother was lucky to have you around."

Peeta comes down just then, holding Finnick in his arms. Finnick's head perks up as he takes in Matt, and his thumb comes out of his mouth to mutter a word.

"Mama!"

I take him wordlessly in my arms, smiling at him.

"So who's this little guy?" Matt asks.

Peeta and I look at each other, and he nods at me to go. I gulp.

"Matt this is my younger son," I say. "His name… um, his name is…" I sigh. "His name is Finnick."

Peeta and I sit there stiffly, waiting for Matt's reaction. He just keeps smiling at Finnick, as if remembering a fond memory.

"I suppose I expected something like that to happen," he says. It's then that he sees our strained eyes and rigid posture. "Oh, no, I'm not angry!" he assures us. We let out a breath.

"More like… honored," he says, smiling at us. "Thank you."

"We thought that the best way for us to remember and pay respect to your father was to name our son after him. Rue's actually named after a District 11 tribute," Peeta says.

"I thought I recognized the name from somewhere," he says. "She was in your first Hunger Games, if I remember correctly."

I nod. "Thank you for acting so kindly toward us. We weren't sure if you would appreciate us naming him Finnick," I say, smiling.

"No, I want to thank _you_," he says, "for honoring my father in such a great way. I never knew him, but I've heard he was a great man."

"He was," Peeta and I answer simultaneously. We all look at each other and smile.

"Is anyone getting as tired as I am of all this sad talk?" Matt says suddenly.

"I agree. Feeling sad is ok, but to keep dragging it on and on isn't too great," I say, staring at the primroses outside the window. I look at Peeta, and then Matt. "Sometimes, you've got to learn to move on."


	11. Nightmares and Coffee

_A/N - A small reminder to all the readers out there: The Future of The Mockingjay is NOT over! Please don't think I've ended the story yet ;) I'll get there, but as for now, don't worry guys! Thanks to all who've commented, you are all amazing! And even if you've just read my story or thought it was maybe good, THANK YOU! You guys make my day!  
_

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CHAPTER 11: NIGHTMARES AND COFFEE

"And you'll come again, right? To visit with the children?" Mother asks, wrapping her arms around me.

"Of course I will mother," I assure her, hugging her back and kissing her on the cheek. She dabs at her eyes and moves on to hug Peeta and the kids.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," Matt says, hugging me. "Maybe sometime we'll see each other again."

I smile. "That would be nice Matt; you take care of yourself now, OK?"

"I'll do my best," he says back. "Before you go, I just wanted to thank you for making that beautiful speech about my mother. It really was amazing."

"I'm glad you liked it," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder.

Just as Matt and my mother finished their goodbyes, a loud voice rang out from the speakers.

"Would all the passengers taking the 3 o'clock train to District 12 please alight the train?" the crackling voice said.

"Well, this is it," I say to my mother and Matt. "Thank you so much for the time here at District 4, I hope we get to see you soon!"

We boarded the train and waved at them from our window as we pulled away from the platform. Slowly, they reduced to little specks in the distance, and then District 4 was gone altogether.

After half an hour, District 5 appeared. The district's specialty was breeding as well as splicing DNA and things like that. I had always been a little afraid of what they might be doing there, actually. I had the feeling that the mutated mutts in the 74th Hunger Games were made at District 5.

I shivered, remembering the eyes of my dead fellow tributes looking at me from the face of a gigantic dog.

We also passed District 6 the scientific research center, District 7 the lumber and construction area, District 8 the weaving and clothes-making specialists, and District 9 the hunters and food processing place before we were called out for dinner.

After the simple meal of chicken noodle soup, we made our way back to the cabin and put the kids to bed. I sat by the window and watched the stars in the midnight blue sky.

"Missing your mom?" Peeta asks, putting his arms around me.

I lean into him, feeling relieved at the familiar comfort of his chest and arms. Even his smell was soothing to me.

"A little bit," I admit. "But also a little eager to get home."

"Me too."

We both knew what day it was tomorrow. It was a very special day: Haymitch's birthday.

"What should we get him?" I had asked Peeta yesterday as we were frantically running around, trying to find a gift for him.

"I don't know, what does he like?"

"Drinking!" I replied.

We both looked for alcohol stores, but were unsuccessful. Until the perfect gift came along.

It was a gorgeous mug, carved out of turquoise sea glass that sparkled in the sun. Its rim was thick and tapered down to a solid base that was almost transparent. The handle looked slim and delicate but was actually tough and sturdy (which he would need, trust me). We had paid a little extra to have the man engrave his initials onto the base of the mug. Even though Haymitch was probably going to drop it in the first week or so, I wanted to give something nice. After all, to Peeta and I, he will always be our Mentor.

"Do you think he'll like it?" I ask Peeta, getting drowsier by the second as the train passes through a tunnel.

"Who knows, he's Haymitch." Those were the last words I heard before my eyelids dropped and all I saw was the darkness.

…

I roll over, expecting to drop onto the floor but instead hitting Peeta. I jerk my eyes open. Somehow, in my sleep, Peeta had moved me to the bed again. Rue and Finnick were squished on my other side.

I stretched, cracking my fingers and toes, and slowly got up.

The sky was still dim, though I could tell it was almost morning. Maybe a few more hours 'til they wake up. I dropped my head back onto the pillow. A few more hours of sleep won't kill me.

Before I know it, I'm outside in my robe, walking to the kitchen for coffee. I couldn't sleep. I knew why, but I didn't want to admit it to Peeta, or myself. I won't.

_You can't! Don't say it; don't even think it…_

I take the mug and pour the hot liquid inside. I stir in milk and sugar, and take a long sip. The coffee makes its way slowly down my throat and warms my stomach.

But even the best at mind games can't fool themselves. I was stupid to try to do so.

The nightmares were back.


	12. Happy Birthday?

CHAPTER 12: HAPPY BIRTHDAY…?

"Haymitch! Get up already!" Peeta yells, banging on the door again. "For God's sakes man, it's almost seven!"

"He's not getting up anytime soon," I say, looking at my watch.

Peeta stares down at the wrapped box he's holding. "Should we just leave the present by the door, then?"

"Wait!" Haymitch yells, his heavy footsteps pounding the wooden floorboards as he runs to the door. He yanks it open and we are surprised to see him fully dressed with his hair gelled back and his beard trimmed.

"You bought me a present?" he asks, smiling at us.

"Way to keep us waiting, Haymitch," Peeta says as he hands over the box.

Haymitch weighs it in his hand and gives it a slight shake.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I say.

"Something fragile, eh? Come in," he says, opening the door.

"You seem very… sober today," Peeta observes.

"Well, I wanted to fully appreciate my gifts," Haymitch says. "And besides," he adds, sitting down, "I'm going to get so drunk tonight I probably won't wake up 'til my next birthday comes."

"Go ahead," I say as Peeta and I sit across from him.

He tears apart the wrapping and slits through the tape with a knife neatly. After pulling away all the Styrofoam and extra paper, he lifts the glass into the air, watching as all the different colors danced around it in the light.

"A cup?" he says. He puts it down on the table.

"A mug, for your drinks," I say. "Look at the bottom of it, Haymitch."

He twists it around to see the delicate 'H' and 'A' carved into the glass. He runs his hand over it. "Looks expensive."

"Doesn't matter," Peeta says quickly. "It's your birthday anyways."

"Well thank you," Haymitch says, satisfied. "It's a fine mug and I'm sure the color will compliment the beer I plan to put in it tonight!"

"So where are we going, then?" I ask him, smiling. We had agreed to let Haymitch take us out tonight, to his favorite bar.

"After all," he had said, "this could very well be my last birthday." That had convinced us well enough.

"It's a fine bar," Haymitch tells us, getting up. "I just found it yesterday, and I swear, they have the best beers there."

We follow him into the Seam. Around this time, people are making their way to the new Hob, which was constructed right after District 12 was repopulated again. Instead of the old, abandoned coal warehouse it used to be in, a new building was made. This one had a wider, open space and could fit more shops, but the same feel of the old Hob was still there. Along with Greasy Sae, other popular sellers that had survived the bombing had come back and taken their place in the Hob.

Before the Hob was even in sight, I could hear the faint music and laughter echoing down the path. People streamed in from all alleyways, some just arriving and others stumbling around, already drunk. We turned the corner and there was the Hob.

The doors were held wide open, and you could see it totally packed inside. Lights were flashing everywhere and people were all chattering, creating one big hum of noise that rang through my ears. Haymitch's eyes gleamed, his lips curving up into a smile; he was home.

We walk inside, following him as he makes his way to a man behind a counter. The man has thin brown hair that sticks to his forehead from the sweat. His shirt is stretched tight over his protruding belly, the buttons threatening to pop at any moment. He was busy filling up mugs with beer, handing them out to the people and shoving the coins into his pocket.

"Freddie," Haymitch greets, sitting down. We sit next to him, nodding at Freddie.

"Haymitch! You made it!" he says, slapping Haymitch's back.

Haymitch hands him his mug. "Fill 'er up!"

Freddie gives a low whistle, taking the mug and holding it under the flowing stream of beer.

"Hey, are you OK?" Peeta's voice asks over the noise.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I draw circles in the wooden counter with my fingertip.

"You just seem, I don't know… troubled," he says, struggling with the word.

I sigh.

_Should I tell him?_

_It'll only make things more difficult; he doesn't need to be worried._

_I should tell him._

"Peeta," I start, gathering the courage to look into his eyes, "it's, um, the…well, you see in the train…."

"Please, Katniss," he pleads, taking my hand.

It seems like the wrong place to be having this kind of conversation. The crowd is making me claustrophobic and the noise is just about to explode my eardrums. We shouldn't be discussing this in here; we should wait for home.

As if reading my mind, Freddie comes over and boisterously starts a conversation, interrupting us.

"So," he starts out, practically yelling at us, "are you two gonna have anything?"

"Um…." Peeta is unsure, still trying to coax the answer out of me.

"Don't worry," Freddie yells, "you take your time, folks!" He waddles over to the couple on the opposite side of the counter, slapping the man on the back and grinning widely. It seems like everyone knew each other here.

"Hey, you two lovebirds!" Haymitch yells, rather drunk. How many glasses has he gulped down already?

"It's my birthday, act like you're here to have a good time! Laugh! Drink! Party! Don't sit there like a bunch of clueless morons!" He stands up on the counter, wobbling a little bit. His shiny new mug is dangerously being swung about. "Did ya hear that evr'yone? It's my birthday today!"

"Haymitch," Peeta and I warn simultaneously.

"Another year ahead of me," he continues on with his drunken speech, walking along the whole counter now, "and more people to be met! But you know what the most important thing is?" His hand goes up and he points his mug towards the watching crowd, "More drinks! Ye-hah!"

Before his lips touch the mug's rim, his eyes roll back into his head and he tips over the counter, landing facedown into the dusty floor.

Bye-bye brand new mug and bye-bye Haymitch.

_A/N First of all, sorry I haven't updated anything in a long time, I've just been busy, you know? And I apologize about the chapter, yes I know it's just a filler, but the next ones are bound to have more... interesting things happening. :) thanks everyone for following my story!_

_ONE LAST THING: I will be participating in this year's NaNoWriMo (check it out, people!) and I will probably not be able to post things this WHOLE month, so please forgive me, but don't forget me! ;) I promise I'll update it as soon as I can!_


	13. It's Personal

**A/N - Hey guys! Yes, haha, so I'm back! NaNoWriMo was a challenge. But I'm here on FanFic now! Thanks so much to everyone who kept following my story and didn't desert it! You're reviews never fail to make me smile! :) Here are some brand new chapters I whipped up. Not too good, but give me a while, and I'll get back into the hang of it! :) thanks guys! keep reading and reviewing! ;)

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CHAPTER 13: IT'S PERSONAL

"So… tell me what happened again?" Haymitch takes a sip of his soup.

I sigh, handing him the glass of water. "We went out to the Hob for drinks, and you got carried away. Next thing we knew, you were out cold."

"Of course," murmurs Peeta from the chair.

The monitors connected to Haymitch beep rhythmically as they monitor his heart. He rolls his eyes. "Why did you guys have to put me in this blasted hospital room?"

"Because, even though you're annoying, you're still our mentor." I pat his hand.

"And it _would_ be sad if you were to die," Peeta adds. I narrow my eyes at him.

"Look at me! I've never been more humiliated in my life!" He gestures at himself. "I'm a grown man stuck in a bed all day wearing a gown and a diaper!"

I giggle. "Maybe this will teach you to be more careful."

He grunts and goes back to his soup, ignoring us. "It's getting late."

"_You're welcome_ for visiting, by the way," Peeta says, irritated.

He shrugs as we leave the room. "It's a pity," Peeta continues in the hall, "that after a week in the hospital, he still hasn't improved his manners."

I laugh, grabbing his hand. "What do you expect? He's Haymitch."

We make our way home and Greasy Sae answers the door immediately. "Oh thank goodness you're home! Those two are about as wild as you can get 'em!"

Peeta and I laugh, handing her a few coins. "Thanks, Greasy Sae."

She hugs us both. "My pleasure, dears. Come by the ol' stall when you get a chance, eh? And you tell that Haymitch to get better, OK? That geezer better get back to his senses."

We say goodnight and then go inside, thankful to be back home. We're relieved to find that Rue and Finnick are fast asleep in their rooms.

"Greasy Sae sure did a good job," I say, cleaning up the dishes. Peeta comes from behind me and wraps his arms around me.

"She sure did."

I kiss him lightly, but I can sense that he's about to ask something; I know him. Sure enough, as soon as we pull away, he leans against the counter and fiddles with a lock of my hair as I try to keep busy with the dishes.

"So, about that night," he starts. "Are you _finally_ going to tell me what's been troubling you?"

"Depends on which night you're referring to," I say, scrubbing extra hard on a bowl.

His voice softens and he gently forces me to look at him. "Katniss." His eyes are like liquid sapphires, except much, much lighter. "I know how you are; we've been married for over twenty years now! And I can tell when you're happy, when you're excited, when you're tired," he puts a hand on my shoulder, "and when you're sad."

"I'm not sad," I say sharply, turning away.

"You're troubled." It wasn't a question.

"Stop trying to figure me out, Peeta!" I burst, raising my voice.

"I'm only concerned about you, sweetheart." He tries to take my hand, and I jerk mine away.

"Well, maybe you should be less concerned."

His eyes flame up. "Katniss, what are you trying to do, huh? You want a fight?"

I'm surprised by his response. I step up so that we're inches away from each other's face. "Are you _threatening_ me, Peeta?"

"You know I never would." His voice is softer. "I just want to help. I can't bear seeing you like this. It would help, if… if you stopped trying to push me away."

"I don't think you understand what I'm going through here!" I yell again.

"Well then, please explain." He waits expectantly.

I take a deep breath to calm myself and say in a strong voice, "What I decide to keep personal, I keep _personal._" I turned sharply on my heel and stalked out of the kitchen.

The last thing I heard before slamming the bedroom door was the sound of the water coming again as Peeta continues on the dishes.


	14. Not Just A Dream

CHAPTER 14: NOT JUST A DREAM

"_Katniss!"_

_I turn as I hear Prim's voice calling me. There's an unmistakable tone of desperation and hurt in her voice._

"_Prim!" I scream, trying to find her. All I see around me is black. "Prim!"_

_I'm running now, or at least that's what I think. "Prim, where are you?"_

"_I'm right here, Katniss! I'm right here!" This time she's sobbing. And so am I._

"_Prim! Honey, where are you? Come here, come to me Prim!"_

"_Ah!" Her piercing scream lights up my surroundings, and a brilliant fire is suddenly in front of me. Her figure flails about, burning brightly. _

_I try to claw my way to her, but something – or someone – is holding me back. "Let me go!" My pleas are no use._

"_Prim! I'm here! It's going to be fine! Please, stop hurting her!" I yell. "Why won't you let me help her?" I scream. "Let go of me, I need to help Prim!"_

"_No." The response is strong and firm._

"_You don't own me! Let go of me you… you monster!" I struggle._

"_Katniss, I'm sorry," the voice says, as I helplessly watch my baby sister disintegrate into ashes._

"_Why didn't you let me help?" I ask, whispering now._

"_Because, Katniss, you're the Mockingjay."_

"Katniss, please! Katniss listen to me!" Peeta's voice pulls me out of unconsciousness, and I realize I'm wildly flailing myself around the bed. His strong arms restrain me and then he loosens his grip as I relax.

I sob uncontrollably, and he pulls me in and rocks me back and forth. "She was right there! Right there and I couldn't help her," I whisper.

"Shh, Katniss, shh. It was just a dream."

I cling to him tighter as tears stream down my cheeks. "No it wasn't."


	15. Overwhelmed

CHAPTER 15: OVERWHELMED

"Have a good day at school, kids," I say, kissing both their cheeks. I wave as I they walk into the building, trying to smile at them.

After the dream last night, my family was the only thing anchoring me down to reality. Without them, I'm sure I'd go crazy.

"Hey, did they go inside already?" Peeta asks, running up to me with the groceries in his hand.

I nod and turn around, making my way back home. For a while, we walk in silence, staring awkwardly at the ground.

"So do you want to visit Haymitch today?" I ask, trying to break the ice.

"It's the dreams again, isn't it?" he asks, skipping right to the point. Since last night, we haven't discussed anything about what happened.

I take a deep breath, trying not to remember anything. "They're not just dreams," is all I can respond with.

He nods thoughtfully, taking my hand as we turn onto our street. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I don't hesitate, "No."

"Katniss," he says, trying to reason with me.

I ignore him and open our door. I quickly take the groceries and made myself busy with putting them in the right places.

"Katniss," Peeta tries again, rubbing my shoulders.

"Peeta, please." I shrug away from his touch.

"You're going to have to confront your fears sometime, Katniss." He looks me straight in the eye. "You've survived _two_ of the Hunger Games. If anyone can handle this, it's you."

I sit down on a chair, holding my head between my hands. He sits down beside me quietly, rubbing my back.

"It was pitch dark," I start, whispering the words. I can feel him tense beside me as he prepares himself for the rest.

"And… Prim was there," I continue, forcing the word out. I squeeze my eyelids with my hands to help control the tears. "She kept screaming my name, asking for help. But…" I start sobbing and can barely force the words out.

"But…?" he evokes.

"I can't do this!" I yell in frustration, breaking down again. "Peeta, please!" I sit up and hold his face between my hands. "I can't possibly ask you to understand what I'm going through."

Instead of comforting me as I thought he would, Peeta's face becomes rigid and his shoulders stiffen. He pulls away from me slowly. "Peeta?"

"How can you say that, Katniss?" he asks in a deathly tone. I don't know how to respond.

"How can you say, that I don't know how that _feels_?" His eyes are full of pain and hard memories as he fixes his hard gaze on me.

"Peeta," I say, getting confused, "she was _my_ sister."

"She was my mother. They were my siblings." He stands up, facing me. His hands are trembling. "I lost them all, Katniss. My parents, my siblings, I have _nothing_! Nothing!"

I look down shamefully. Peeta had lost all his family in the bombing of District 12. "Peeta I'm… I'm so sorry."

"I can understand," he says softly, "how you're being troubled by these nightmares. But when will you move on, Katniss? You have your mother, your children! You have _me_."

"You can't just ask me to _move on_, Peeta!"

"I can't? What about your family now, Katniss? You have two children to take care of. They can't grow up with struggling parents."

"I'm trying!" I say desperately, crying again.

"I know. But it's been over twenty years."

"Are you questioning my sanity?" I demand, standing up as well.

"You know I love you," he says, taking my hand. "But the way you're acting… it's not _you_. You're not the Katniss I once knew."

I feel as if he's shot an arrow through my heart. "What are you saying, Peeta?" The words are barely a whisper.

"I'm saying," he says, taking a step back, "that you need to realize that we're all here for you. You need to be thankful for what you have, instead of suffering with your past. I'll give you some time to think, OK?"

"Peeta, wait!" I yell, reaching out. It's no use; he's already out the door.

_What just happened?_

I slump down on the floor, staring at the door uselessly. _Did he just leave me?_

I shake my head, getting back up. "Calm down, Katniss. He's just overwhelmed." Now I'm talking to myself, maybe I am going mad.


	16. Happening

CHAPTER 16: HAPPENING

_Come on Peeta! Turn around! Don't leave her there alone._

I wander through the streets aimlessly, smiling politely at anyone who recognized me.

"Peeta, m'boy!" I turn around, only to run into Mavel, the baker.

"How are you, Mavel?" I ask, trying to look happy.

He frowns at me, clapping me on the back. "Come now, lad! Why the long face?"

"I'm fine," I insist, laughing it off.

"No you're not," he says, scrutinizing my face. "Come on over to the shop, we can talk."

Not seeing any point in arguing, I follow him to the bakery. Inside, the comforting smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries puts a real smile on my face. I inhale the aroma, leaning on the counter top.

"There we go!" Mavel says, laughing. "Such a handsome face as yours shouldn't be sad."

"It smells amazing in here," I compliment, smiling.

"Well, can't say you didn't help me," Mavel says, offering me a loaf. "Take it, it's your recipe anyway!" He pushes it at me and I take it, thanking him as I take a bite.

"So…" he starts, scratching his head.

"It's just some trouble with Katniss," I say, knowing where this is going.

"Ah, lady trouble? What about, lad?"

I sigh, trying not to let out all the emotions building up inside of me. "It's just… well, we're just having problems getting over the past, that's all."

He nods understandingly. Mavel had been an undercover spy working in the Capitol during the time of the Rebellion. He decided to settle down in District 12, still the most plain and calm district in Panem.

"Peeta, I don't mean to pry into your personal life, but things like what you've two have been through… things like that can take some time to get over." He looks at me with his deep purple eyes, a mark of his time spent at the Capitol.

"I know," I say, picking at the bread, "but her nightmares… I just can't stand seeing her like that. It's driving me crazy! I can't handle this, it feels like I'm useless to her." I drop my gaze shamefully, resting my head on my hands.

"Now stop there," Mavel says sternly. "Peeta you're one heck of a man, and any gal would be lucky to have you for even a day. Katniss has got you for, well, forever I'm presuming. Just _being there_ is enough for her."

"You make it sound so easy, like I'm the answer to the problem," I say, shaking my head.

"Well here's the question, Peeta: what is the problem? This isn't really just about Katniss anymore, is it?" His gaze locks my eyes, and I feel as if I can't move.

I sigh, finally giving up. "The fight I had with Katniss… I don't know what happened. It's like… like I couldn't even _control_ myself. Back at the Capitol, when they captured me, the worst thing they did…." I take a deep breath, grasping the counter.

"If this is to hard…." He starts to protest. I wave him off.

"The absolute worst thing was the hijacking. It's not about pain; there wasn't much of that, but it was the way it affected me. When I saw Katniss in my mind, it wasn't her! It was this fierce, blood-thirsty girl who wanted nothing but to harm me." I closed my eyes, fighting the memories. "And when I strangled her," a tear rolls down my cheek, "I could see and hear _everything_. I wanted to stop! I wanted to let go of her!"

Mavel suppresses a sob and pats my shoulder stiffly. "Don't be afraid, lad, that isn't going to happen again."

"You don't understand, Mavel!" I lift my head and stare at him straight in the eyes. "It already has."


	17. Confession

CHAPTER 17: CONFESSION

"Katniss?"

I run to the door and swing it open. In the doorway stands Peeta with red-rimmed eyes and flowers in his hand.

"Oh, Peeta," I say, jumping into his arms. For a while we stand there, embracing each other and not saying a word. Peeta is the one to break the silence.

"I'm so sorry."

"Shh," I say, stroking his hair, "don't apologize, Peeta. I should be the one."

"No," he pulls away, a nervous look in his eyes, "there's something I need to tell you."

"OK, but can this wait? The kids aren't home yet; I'm starting to worry. Let's go look around first and-"

"I dropped them off with Sally down the road," he replies quickly. "Let's go inside." He slips by me and I follow nervously shutting the door. I sit down in front of him on the couch and he hands me the flowers.

"Peeta," I say, putting them down, "what's wrong?"

He takes a deep breath. "Just, try to work with me here, Katniss, OK?"

"Whatever you need to say, feel free," I reply, bracing myself.

"You remember when I was back at the Capitol, and they had me captured, right?" I winced, but he continued, nevertheless. "They did so many unmentionable things over there, but for me the worst was the hijacking."

I brushed my fingers over my neck, picturing the bruises I had before from Peeta's attempted strangling. "It was the worst for me, too," I whisper.

"Katniss, I'm so sorry!" he pleas, grabbing my hand.

"No, no, continue on," I say, squeezing his hand.

"Well, it was the worst for me because I _knew_ you were good. I knew that you were Katniss! But I just couldn't control myself. The words and actions that came out of me… I couldn't control them. I tried to fight it, but it was like watching through glass as someone else controls you," he murmured, staring off into the distance.

"Peeta I'm never going to let that happen to you again," I promise, staring into his eyes. I hug him, rubbing his back. "You're safe now," I whisper.

"I wish I could believe that," he replies softly.

I stiffen and jerk away. "What is that supposed to mean?" My heartbeat quickens as I consider the meaning to his words. "Peeta, what exactly is going on?"

"Katniss, please don't worry," he says, trying to soothe me.

"You are not getting out of this, Peeta," I say firmly. "Tell me what's going on or so help me-"

"I haven't been feeling myself lately," he interrupts, holding my hand. "You remember the time I spent at… the Capitol, right?"

I cling to his hand, holding my breath. I nod quickly, afraid to say anything.

"And when I came back?"

"You were hijacked," I whisper, shutting my eyes. An image of Peeta's wild face flashes behind my eyelids, and I cringe. "It was horrible."

"Exactly what I'm getting at," he says quietly.

My eyes flash open. "What do you mean, Peeta? Are you experiencing… the hijacking again?" My hands instantly wander to my neck, trying to remember how it felt to be strangled.

"I… I don't know."

I jolt up and stare down at him, offering my hand. "Come on, we're going to the hospital."

"I don't need to be admitted. I'm not going crazy or anything… yet," he says, standing up.

I stare into his eyes, afraid to lose him again. "Peeta we can't go through that again! Who knows what will happen if the situation gets worse?"

"Katniss…" he soothes.

"Think about it! It's not just the two of us anymore," I say softly, taking his hand. "If something were to go wrong… we have children here. They're nowhere near strong enough to protect themselves." His face takes on a pained expression as I realize how he might be taking this. "I'm not saying that it's going to happen for sure. I have complete trust in you and I swear I'll never stop fighting, Peeta." A tear rolls down my cheek. "I knew something was happening to you. Lately, you've been more aggressive and… not like yourself."

He wipes the tear from my cheek with a kiss. "I'm not going to allow anyone, myself included, to hurt my family," he says in a strong voice. "I don't what's happening to me right now, but if it gets worse, well, you know what you have to do."

"Never!" I shout, pushing his hands away. "Peeta, I promised myself after the Games that I'd never let you get hurt again. Never."

"You know it has to be done," he says gently. "It's the only way to protect the children."

I hug him tightly, burying my face into his chest. "But what about protecting _us_?"


	18. Drugs

**A/N - Hey guys... yeah, I know it's been SUCH A LONG TIME. I've missed FanFic a lot. Sorry everyone for not uploading sooner! I've had a serious case of writer's block... I've been working and working on this story... trying to figure out what needs to happen. Any suggestions on things you might want to see? Sorry again for dissapearing! ;) I'll work harder on this story! I know this chapter isn't anything great, but give me a while and I'll get back into the hang of it. Thanks for following my stories and adding them to your favorites! You guys are awesome! ;)**

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CHAPTER 18: DRUGS

"Hijacked again, eh?" Haymitch asks, chewing loudly on a piece of bread.

"Not exactly," I say, looking out the window.

"Then what _exactly_, Peeta?" Haymitch asks in a bored tone.

"I'm not feeling like myself lately. It's almost as if all the memories that had been altered with the hijacking are starting to change themselves again. Every time I see Katniss… I'm not even sure what I feel around her anymore. I know that something's trying to take over me again, but I'm not going to let it." I watch my breath fog up the window as I talk. "I'm fighting as hard as I can."

"But how long can you keep it up?" Haymitch adds, getting interested.

"Exactly."

I pace the room, feeling his watching eyes follow me as I plop down on the chair. I drop my face into my hands in defeat, staring at the tiled floor. "Help me, Haymitch."

"Thought I was just a lousy old drunk, huh?" he teases, coughing out a laugh.

"You are," I mumble through my hands. "But you're the only one I can turn to right now. And, after all," I look up and wink at him, "you _are_ my mentor."

"And don't you forget it," he says, wagging a finger at me. His face softens and he closes his eyes, seemingly sleeping.

"Haymitch!" I say.

He jolts up, glaring at me. "What now?"

"You're supposed to be helping me, remember?" I roll my eyes.

"I am!" He grunts, throwing his hands into the air. "Don't you know a thinking man when you see one?"

"I know a sleeping man," I mutter to myself.

"Now, just wait here a sec and I'll give you my advice." He lies back down, rubbing his stomach.

I get up and stand by the window again, looking over District 12. After a while, I locate the Hob, and then the school, and then our street. I stare longingly at the yellow-tiled roof of a house and imagine Katniss and the kids standing in the doorway, waving to me.

"You love her, don't you?" Haymitch's rough voice breaks my train of thought.

I look at him incredulously. "Of course."

"Well, then, there you go!" He smiled contentedly, as if he'd just won the lottery.

"OK, thanks old man," I say, grabbing my things. "You've been a real _big_ help," I add sarcastically.

He grabs my hand as I pass by, holding me in place. He rests his gaze intently on mine, as if he is seeing right through me. "You'll survive it, boy. I know it." He releases me and closes his eyes, this time really sleeping.

I stare at him, stunned. _Haymitch actually believes in me?_

The monitor beside him beeps steadily and I look at all the medicine flowing into his body. _Must be the drugs._


	19. Behind

CHAPTER 19: BEHIND

I open the closet, taking my bow out. Slowly, I run my fingers over the wood, trying to absorb all the memories captured in it. I picture silently stalking through the forest, my senses alert for prey. I remember the smell of the trees, the rough bark mixing with the tangy leaves.

But it's been months since my last hunting trip. And I know exactly why.

It's because of these memories. Not _these_ memories exactly, but just one. One specific memory that tortures me every time I pick up my bow. Rather, one specific person.

"Oh, Gale," I sigh, remembering how our last visit had worked out.

The bow lingered in my hand, wobbling unsteadily. I stood there, holding my breath, trying to decide what to do.

_Come on, Katniss. This is what you were born to do! This is how you've learned to survive._

I gulp, grasping it tighter. I smile; the bow feels so _right_ in my hand. Like it's always belonged there.

_This is what your father gave you._ It was true. My father had passed on the gift of hunting, which I intended to teach Rue and Finnick later on.

I reach into the closet and slide my sheath filled with arrows over my shoulder. My long hair is braided down my back.

"This is you, Katniss. This is who you're meant to be," I assure myself, looking at my reflection in the mirror. "Peeta is right. Don't torture yourself with the past, live in the present."

I open the door, inhaling the fresh air as if it was my first time. Stepping outside, I find myself running towards the meadow, instead of walking. I freeze at the gate, staring longingly at the green wilderness ahead.

"This is it, Katniss," I tell myself, tentatively holding the handle. I throw open the gate and take a step in. The second the gate closes behind me with a soft _click_, I run off towards the lake, leaving my past behind.


	20. Familiar

CHAPTER 20: FAMILIAR

I had convinced myself that I would forget my past, I promised to leave it behind at the gate. But a promise like that is hard to keep, especially when your past isn't quite ready to leave you.

I run through the forest, my long braid whipping out behind me. My father's leather boots send leaves and dirt flying as I zip through the trees. In my hand is my bow, but I'm not ready to use it yet. There is something more important I have to do first.

The forest is like a maze, delicately twisted and merged so that it's an entirely different world altogether. But I am part of this maze, and I can navigate around it as easily as it takes for me to cross my kitchen.

I don't know why I have to go to that familiar rocky ledge every time I visit the forest. It's like something magnetic pulls me in, and I can't resist it. I guess you could say that it's because of the magnificent view, and that isn't wrong at all. I guess you could say that it's a place where I can think, and that definitely isn't wrong either.

I guess you could say that I go there when I want to be alone. Well, it's funny, because if you said that, you would be completely wrong.

In fact, I go there when I want to be the opposite of alone. I go there when I want someone to be with. I go there when I need my best friend.

Gale and I haven't talked since our last meeting. And, as I remember all too clearly, that didn't go the way I planned.

But I can never be mad at Gale. Never. I should feel betrayed, because he left me without a goodbye. I should feel neglected, because he never made an effort to contact me. I should feel hurt, because he could've had a part in killing Prim.

But Gale was there for me from the start. I fell in love with him, and then I fell in love with Peeta. But I always knew that there was still a part of me that belonged to Gale. There was always that part of me that longed for the old days, as horrible as that may sound.

And when I was at that rocky ledge, Gale was there with me.

I could hear his laughter; I could see his face; I could smell his smell. I know that no matter how hard I try, I could never stay mad at Gale, and I could never forget him.

That's why I come to the ledge. Because that's the one place where I can really believe that he never really left me in the first place.

Which brings me back to my point about my past not ready to leave me alone yet. As I grew nearer to the ledge, I realized with shock that there was something even more familiar standing there.


	21. Answers

CHAPTER 21: ANSWERS

"Gale?"

He spins around, staggering backwards. "Katniss! I didn't hear you coming. But then again," he says, walking towards me, "no one ever hears you unless you want to be heard."

I am too shocked to do anything. I don't know whether I should hug him, or turn around and run away. His eyes search mine, and his hands twitch, as if he wants to hug me.

It seemed like we stood there for hours, staring at each other. Just seeing Gale brought back so many memories, so many feelings.

"You shouldn't be here," I finally manage to say. The words felt so wrong, coming out of my mouth. I wanted to hug him, to beg him to stay and never leave me again. Instead, I turn around, willing my feet to move.

His strong hand grasps my trembling one, and he pulls me back. "Catnip," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"It took you twenty years to figure that out?" I say, pulling my hand away as if I had just touched an open flame.

"Katniss, I never meant to hurt you!" he protests.

"So why did you?" I ask, turning around to face him. "Why did you have to leave me without a goodbye?"

"I…" he struggles with his words, lines forming on his forehead as he thinks.

"You don't know," I finish for him. "Sorry, Gale. But I should be getting back to Peeta."

Gale stiffens, fire flaming up in his eyes. "Peeta." He spits out the name, as if it leaves a dirty taste in his mouth. "I don't know why you ended up having kids with him."

I stepped up to him, until our faces were close. "You don't know him like I do, Gale! Peeta loves me, and I love him."

"You only love him because he was your only option!" Gale yells back.

"I love him because I _chose_ to!" I narrow my eyes at Gale, moving even closer. "Peeta would never leave me."

"Katniss, it's not like I had a choice!" Gale says, throwing his hands into the air.

"What do you mean you didn't have a choice? _Why did you leave?_" I ask, practically hissing the last words.

"Because I was ashamed," he says, dropping his gaze. "I knew how hurt you were about loosing Prim. I just couldn't bear to even think that I had caused that pain you were feeling."

I absorb his words, and their meaning slams me in my chest, making me stagger for breath.

"So your parachutes did kill Prim." It wasn't a question.

Gale looks up at me, a shiny tear rolling down his tan skin. I rarely see Gale cry; actually, I don't think I ever have. So it shocks me even more when his tears really start to flow, and I find myself hugging him.

"She was like a sister to me, too," he says, pulling away to look me straight in the eyes. "They tricked me, Katniss. They told me they wouldn't put bombs in the parachutes. I believed them. And after it had all happened, they told me that there must be a traitor amongst us who rigged the parachutes."

"You could've just told me," I whisper, closing my eyes.

"I know," Gale says, guilt weighing down heavily on his words. "And I would have, but… sometimes I'm just not as brave as I think I am."

"Oh, Gale," I say, stepping back. "Why now? Why did it take you all these years to apologize?" So many memories are flooding back to me, and I have a hard time keeping my mind straight.

_Think of Peeta, think of the children! You can't let your feelings be toyed with!_

"I was going to apologize that other time we met… but I didn't know that you were with Peeta and, well, things were just different…"

"Nothing's changed," I say defensively, grasping my bow tighter. "I'm still Katniss."

Gale chuckled, looking at my clenched fist. "Catnip, we all change; we can't help it. We're not made to be perfect." He takes a step closer to me. "We make mistakes and then we regret those mistakes." His fingers find their way to my cheek and before I know it, he's brushing away a strand of my hair.

"Gale, stop," I say weakly, but I don't step away; I don't even turn my head.

"Catnip, I'm sorry," he says, his breath encasing my face. "I know how long you've been waiting to hear that, and I've been waiting just as long to say it. I can't turn back time to make you love me again, or to bring back Prim, but I can make this time we have together right again, so that maybe we can start over?"

"Gale, you know we can't do that," I say, forcing the words out. "You know we can never start over."

"Don't say that, Katniss," Gale protests, his face crumpling in pain.

"I'm with Peeta now," I say, once more taking a step back. "I have two kids! You can't expect me to just run away with you and live happily ever after! That's not how life works."

"I'm not asking you to run away with me," Gale says quietly.

"Then what, Gale? Are you going to move back here? There aren't any jobs for you in District 12. And besides, we both know that this place holds too many memories for us to handle. I'm barely hanging on by a thread, Gale! If you come and live here now, my thread will break."

Gale takes a step forward, following me yet again. "Will your thread break if I do this?" He teasingly stroked his hand across my cheek.

"Gale," I say, wishing I had the strength to walk away.

"Hmm, how about if I do this?" Gale asks, lightly touching my lips with his finger.

"I think…" I lean in closer, inhaling his smell. "I think I just might be able to handle it." And then, ignoring all the voices that were shouting at me in my head, I leaned in closer, until our lips were inches apart.

"Good," Gale says, pulling me closer, "because then, you'll be able to handle this." His lips pressed down firmly on mine, and they tasted like fire. I dropped my bow on the ground, wrapping my arms around Gale's thick neck. This reminded me even more of why Gale and Peeta were so different. Peeta was soft and sweet, like a puppy that always wants to please you. But Gale was like a firecracker: energetic, full of fire, and totally unpredictable.

"Gale, we should stop," I manage to say briefly.

"We should," he murmurs, but he just kisses me again.

"I said, _stop!_" I say, pushing him away. He staggers back, shocked. I look down at my hands. _Did I really just do that?_

"Katniss…" He reaches out but then pulls his hand back, still staring at me incredulously.

I feel my lips with my fingers, realizing what I had just done. What _we_ had just done. "Oh my gosh, Gale." I look up at him, struggling not to cry. "How could you?"

He widens his eyes. "How could I? Well excuse me Katniss, but a second ago, you seemed just fine with the fact that you were kissing me."

I jab my finger at him. "_You_ kissed _me!_"

He rolls his eyes. "Oh come on, are we really going to argue about this?"

I pick my bow off of the ground, feeling anger, regret, and pleasure swell within me at the same time. I don't think I can handle _this_. "Yes, Gale, we really are going to argue about this!" I scream. "I'm a married woman! With two kids!"

"Katniss, you didn't know what you were doing, ok? It's been a long time since we've seen each other," Gale reassures, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I jerk away, turning around. I press my hand over my mouth, as if I could take back kissing Gale. As if I could take back the guilty pleasure I felt when his lips touched mine. Tears brim in my eyes, and they spill over. Sobbing, I turn around to face Gale once more.

"This is all your fault," I say softly, tasting the salt on my lips. "Why did you even come here in the first place?"

"I told you, I wanted to say sorry," he says, looking away uncomfortably.

"That's not all!" I accuse him. "You had something to say to me, so just say it! Stop being a coward and just tell me what you want to say!"

He glares at me, his face filling with anger. "You think this is my fault, Katniss? Well it's not!" He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, throwing it onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" I yell at him, staring at the paper. "Don't try to change the subject!"

"Ok, fine! You want answers? Well I don't have them!"

"Just tell me why you're here!"

Gale stares me down, and I feel as if his eyes are about to start throwing knives at me. "You want to know why I'm here? Why don't you ask your beloved husband?"

I blink in confusion. "What are you talking about? Peeta has nothing to do with this!" Last week, Peeta agreed to admit himself into the hospital to have his hijacking problem addressed.

Gale stares at me, his eyes wide, "So he really didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I demand.

He kicks the piece of paper towards me with his boot. "I'll be by the lake." He turns and stalks off, his hands in his pockets.

Eyeing the paper carefully, I reach down and pick it up. The paper was worn and the creases were faded, probably from being read over and over. I walk out to the rocky ledge and sit, dangling my legs over the edge. Slowly I unfolded the paper, treating it as if it could explode any second.

_I don't understand why Gale thinks Peeta has any part in this_, I think as I smooth out the paper on my lap. I gasp in surprise when I realize the handwriting.

It was a letter from Peeta.


	22. Goodbye

CHAPTER 22: GOODBYE

_My dear Katniss,_

_Last week, when I was admitted into the hospital, I had a lot of time to think. Time to think about you and me, and a lot of time to think about our past. I know how much it hurt you when I was hijacked. You try to hide it, but I saw how scared you were when I told you it might be happening again._

_I can't do this to you Katniss. I can't be a danger to you anymore. _

_Everyday, I wish I could take back what I did to you when I was hijacked. Everyday, I wish that you never had to experience what you went through, having someone you love turn against you. And everyday, for the rest of your life, I wish that you never have to feel threatened again._

_Don't you see Katniss? I'm a threat to you! You never know what could happen around me. Hijacking is uncontrollable, and once it happens, it never stops. We were lucky once, who knows if we'll be able to live through it again?_

_I can't hurt you Katniss, never. Even the thought of causing you pain makes me sick. This is why I have to go. This is why I have to walk away and never come back._

_I can't live the rest of my life trying to control myself around you. One day, I might be too weak to stop myself. _

_We have children now, Katniss. If I leave, they only loose one parent. But if I stay, there's a chance they might loose the both of us._

_You don't know how hard it is to do this._

_Leaving you seems impossible to me. I can't even try to imagine life without my family. But I have to go._

_So please do me a few favors: don't come after me, don't try to kill yourself, look after the children, and forgive Gale._

_It sickens me to write this, but you have to forgive Gale for killing Prim. You have to realize how much he means to you, how much you love him. Even though you choosing him over me is the worst possible thing I could think of, you have to do it._

_Gale is kind, and he cares for you. When I leave, Gale is going to be the only one to help you. He's going to be there for you, Katniss._

_I know that me leaving is going to rip you apart to shreds. But Gale will be there to put the pieces back together._

_I've already been ripped apart so many times, that there's no hope left for me. I don't want to ever hurt you again, Katniss._

_So I promise this will be the last time._

_Please, don't come looking for me. Live your life the way it was meant to be. Gale is good, and he will learn to love our children as his own._

_Katniss please believe me when I say that I would never do this to you if I had the choice. But, as it is, I only have two options: you living, or you dying. You dying was never an option for me, Katniss, so I guess that means I have to go._

_Don't be too mad at Gale. I called him here. And I know that he's already read this letter over and over, even though I told him not to._

_Katniss, you mean the world to me. I don't know what will happen to me from here on, but I know that you will live. And you have always been the most important part of my life. So if you live, I'll be happy._

_I love you so much._

_Love,_

_Peeta_

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**A/N - Hey guys, I know that this story seems to be dragging on and on and onnnnn. But I've been struggling with how to end it, I mean, there are just so many different ways to go! But I've finally decided. :) Sorry about the past chapters, they've been really depressing. Once more, I LOVE ALL OF YOU who follow me and my stories. This is my very first fanfic, and so far it seems to be doing pretty well. I would like to thank MountainAir especially, because you have been amazing! :) Thanks so much for following my story and always leaving reviews.**

**Everyone else is just as awesome! :) Bear with me, just a few chapters left. PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW :) **


	23. Really Gone

CHAPTER 23: REALLY GONE

I crumple the letter with my fist, trying to stifle the cry itching its way up my throat.

_Peeta left me? He left our children?_

I want to feel angry. I want to scream and hit and destroy. But I don't feel angry at all. A wave of sadness and helplessness hits me so suddenly and with such impact that I feel all the breath knocked out of my lungs. I gasp, clutching my throat. Tears are pouring from my eyes and leaking into my mouth. The cry that has been building up inside me bursts from my mouth.

I lie on the ground, kicking my bow away. I throw the letter over my head, wishing I never even read it in the first place. I've been mad at the Capitol since I was born. I learned to hate them even more during the Hunger Games. When I found out about the bombing, there was so much hate inside me it was practically spilling out through my ears.

But never before have I experience so much hatred as I was feeling now. I wanted to shoot every single person in the Capitol right through the heart with my arrow. I would shoot all the husbands first, and let the wives mourn until their hearts burst from all the sadness. All the sadness that I was feeling right now.

"Why?" I scream, lying on my back. "Why me?"

The Capitol did this. They destroyed my life.

I jump up, throwing my sheath of arrows to the ground where it rolled to my bow. Turning towards the forest, I walk off the rocky ledge, my legs feeling like they were made of lead.

"Gale!" I cry out, my voice desperate and weak. "Gale, where are you?" I weave through the trees toward the lake, yelling Gale's name the whole way. Halfway there, Gale stumbles out from the bushes, his face worried.

"Katniss, are you ok?" he asks. He starts to move towards me but backs off when he sees my expression.

My skin feels like it's radiating heat from all the anger inside me. "Do I look ok, Gale?" I say slowly. My hands tremble at my sides, yearning to hit him.

"Katniss, why don't you sit down for a while? You look stressed."

"Of course I'm stressed!" I yell, pointing my finger at him. "You knew about this! You knew he was about to leave me!"

He holds his arms up, surrendering. "I only received the letter a few days ago! I came here as fast as I could."

"But you didn't come fast _enough_." Tears are yet again dripping down my face. I can't even count how many times I've cried today. Isn't there some kind of set amount of tears a person can release?

"What do you expect me to do, fly?" he asks jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"You could have called me, Gale! You _should_ have called me! You should have warned me that Peeta was… that he was…" I just can't bring myself to say that Peeta was leaving me, or that he already had.

"Catnip," Gale reaches out to me.

"Don't touch me!" I scream, pushing him away so hard that he stumbles and falls down. I turn away and run, my boots digging into the soil. No matter how much I push myself, my fastest isn't fast enough. I yank open the gate, not stopping even when I reach the meadow.

Running through town is trickier. I dodge people left and right, their annoyed outbursts of complaint hitting me from all angles.

When I was almost at the hospital, a frail old woman stepped in front of me, causing me to slide to a stop.

"Katniss, dear, what's wrong?" Greasy Sae asks, her thin eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Greasy Sae," I pant, grabbing her shoulders. "Have you seen Peeta?"

I want her to say "Yes, Peeta's waiting for you at home." Or something that could reassure me that he isn't really _gone_.

But Greasy Sae slowly shakes her head side to side. Each shake feels like a punch in the stomach. "Sorry Katniss, I haven't seen him in a while."

I push past her and continue running to the hospital. I almost feel like giving up, but I can't. I just can't give up on Peeta.

xXx

I burst into the hospital room, scanning it frantically with my eyes. I hold my hand over my mouth, trying to fight the urge to cry.

Peeta's hospital room is neat. Too neat. It's almost as if he was never even here. Like he erased himself completely.

"Oh no," I sob, grabbing the bed sheets. "No, Peeta, please!" I hold the sheets against my nose, praying that he has left his scent behind. Praying that he can't really be gone.

The sheets smell like alcohol and medicine. Frustrated, I drop the sheets and start searching the room. The closets are bare. The bathtub is dry. A tray of food lies on the table, untouched.

"Miss Everdeen," a soothing voice says. I turn and find three nurses gathered at the door, eyeing me as if I was a rabid animal. "Miss Everdeen," she says again, "we need you to calm down. Please Miss Everdeen, if you would just–"

"Stop calling me that!" I yell, unable to control myself. The nurse looks at me, stunned. "It's Mellark!" I say, crying yet again. "My last name is Mellark!"

_Not Hawthorne, not Everdeen. Just Mellark._

Before the nurse can even respond, I dart out the door and down the hall. A new feeling overcomes me and I pat my thigh to make sure my knife is safely tucked away under my pants.

Finding the right room, I throw open the door without hesitation. He is sitting up in bed, as if he was just waiting for me to come.

I walk inside and lock the door behind me, once more patting my thigh.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here!" Haymitch smirks, chewing on a piece of bread. "Miss Katniss Everdeen."

"_Don't call me that."_ I growl.

And then I lunge forward.


	24. Mourning

**A/N - hey guys! I know that I've been gone for such a long time! I feel really bad for not updating this story, but a lot of things have happened that I have had to take care of. Now I'm ready to start working on this story again. I want to thank you guys for reading my story and giving me such amazing reviews :) I promise you (and this time I seriously mean PROMISE) that I'm going to keep working on this story and hopefully it will soon be complete...please leave more comments below; I love reading them! :) **

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CHAPTER 24: MOURNING

"Tell me where he went!" I beg, shaking Haymitch's shoulders.

"Katniss," he says calmly, pushing my hands away gently. "Calm down. Stop acting this way! You can't let your emotions get the better of you."

Shaking, I loosen my grip, standing up straight. My knife is still strapped to my thigh. I shudder, sickened that I even _thought_ of threatening Haymitch with it.

"I'm glad you didn't hold that knife up against me, sweetheart," he says, reading my face. "I saw you feeling your leg as you came in. Remember, I'll always be you mentor."

"You're Peeta's mentor too," I say, my body still tense. "Where did he go?" The words flow effortlessly out of my mouth, but each word is like a knife slitting my throat.

He looks at me, a hint of compassion in his usually lifeless gray eyes. He reaches out to hold my hand, squeezing it lightly. "Sweetheart, I don't know." He shakes his head slowly, looking down. "I really don't."

I look at Haymitch disbelievingly. "That's it?" I ask, surprised. "You just… you just don't know?"

"Katniss…"

"He's really gone?" I let go of Haymitch's hand, slumping down to the floor. The cool tiles on the floor are a relief to my burning skin. I curl up on the floor, refusing to move, refusing to even think.

And then, like someone pulling me out from under a lake, Haymitch says: "He really loved you, you know. Still does, wherever he is."

_Wherever he is._

The words echoed in my mind, and I tried forcing myself to forget them. It's foolish, I know, to try and forget. I should know better than anyone else that it's the worst memories you can never push away.

_Peeta_, I think, the word flowing over my mind like honey, _Peeta please come back. I need you._

I let go and let myself slip back under the water.

xXx

_The door bursts open, and heavy footsteps pound on the floor. People rush in, asking Haymitch if he's OK, if I hurt him._

"_Where is she?"_

_Gale? Why is Gale here? He should leave. I want him to go._

"_She fainted, knocked herself out. There, on the ground," Haymitch says, sounding a little concerned._

_People rush over. I can't see them, but I can feel their warm breath as doctors crouch over me, checking to see if I'm still alive._

_Please tell me I'm dead._

"_She's still breathing," a man announces. "It's OK, Mr. Hawthorne, she's going to make it."_

_I'm going to make it? How does he know that? I can't go on alone, and as long as I don't have Peeta, I am alone._

"_Catnip?" Gale brushes the hair away from my face. I want to bite his fingers. "Catnip, it's going to be alright. You're going to be alright."_

_No, I really won't._

"_Think of your children," I hear Gale say as I am lifted up and placed on a stretcher. "Rue and Finnick. They need you, Katniss."_

_My children. When they grow up, will they even remember their father's face? Will I?_

_As I am wheeled out of the room, I hear an argument between Gale and a lady._

"_She doesn't need that," Gale growls. "She's already unconscious."_

"_We don't know for sure," the lady snaps back. "Please, Mr. Hawthorne, you need to step back and let me do my job."_

"_Katniss doesn't need it!"_

_There's a disturbance in the background and I hear Gale being taken away, still arguing._

_Oh Gale, why do you always have to cause trouble?_

"_Thank goodness he's gone," the lady says, moving closer to me. I smell her sickeningly sweet perfume as she leans over me. "If you can hear me Katniss, I want you to relax. This won't hurt a bit."_

_A smooth needle slides into my arm, stinging as she injects the medicine. Almost instantly, a blanket of calmness is pulled over me. I drift away from the hospital slowly, glad to be away from reality._

xXx

_I know this smell. Sharp, strong, and clean… too clean._

_I hate hospital rooms and medicine. It only reminds me of the Games. And the Games remind me of the Capitol. There's beeping in the background, and I feel a needle in my hand. _

_I reach over with my other hand, trying to find the needle and pull it out. A strong, callused hand grabs mine, pushing it back down to the bed._

"_Oh no you don't." Gale's husky voice sounds too loud. _

_I groan. Why can't he just be quiet?_

"_Can you hear me, Katniss?" _

_No duh._

"_Wait here, I'll go call the doctor," Gale frantically says._

"_Like I can go anywhere," I muster up the strength to say. My voice sounds rough and dry, and the words scrape my throat as they come out. I shut my mouth instantly. _

"_Oh Katniss, I'm so glad you made it," Gale says, kissing my forehead. I let him, but only because I was immobilized._

_Otherwise, I would've punched him. Really hard._

_Doctors come rushing in, and they all sound happy. Excited, even. They flutter about, and it annoys me that I don't even know what they're doing to me._

_The light is already bright behind my eyelids, but I force myself to crack open my eyes just a bit. An overwhelming flood of light hits me, and I slam my eyelids shut again._

_As I watch the bright, flashing circles dance behind my eyelids, I try opening them again, this time squinting as I adjusted to the light. _

_Once the brightness was no longer painful, I opened my eyes._


	25. No More Goodbyes

CHAPTER 25: NO MORE GOODBYES

**Gale**

Her eyelids flutter open, and her smoldering grey eyes dance around, taking in her surroundings. Katniss struggles against the restraints around her arms and legs. Restraints that I had strongly disagreed to, but the doctors had insisted that they were necessary.

"Ms. Everdeen, it's going to be OK," a doctor says. The other three nod their heads and murmur in agreement.

Katniss shrinks away from their touch, yanking so hard on the restraints that her skin is turning white. She frowns at the doctors in an attempt to hide the obvious fear in her eyes.

I hate seeing her like this.

I grab the doctor who was in charge of the others by the shoulder, spinning him around.

"You're scaring her," I say, stepping right up to him. I tower over him a good six inches, and he's nowhere near as muscular as I am.

"Mr. Hawthorne," he starts, releasing himself from my grip warily, "must I remind you again that you are not to treat the staff with such disrespect?"

"You're scaring her," I repeat, practically growling the words.

"Patients like Ms. Everdeen who have just woken from a coma usually have trouble adjusting to their surroundings. She just needs some time." The snooty doctor looks at me like I'm so below him, as if I don't know anything.

Well, I know _everything_ about Katniss. I bet he doesn't even know her birthday.

"What Katniss needs is for you and your little groupies to leave," I say, looking over at the three doctors still fumbling around, trying to calm Katniss. "I'll talk to her. Trust me," I say, before he can interrupt me, "this is what she needs. I'll let you back in as soon as I can."

The doctor sticks his chin up, trying to look down on me, although really he's just looking straight up my nose. "Very well, Mr. Hawthorne. If that is what you wish, so be it. Just don't come running to me with apologies if something happens to Ms. Everdeen and we weren't here to help!" He storms out of the room, the others following close behind.

As soon as the door closes, Katniss relaxes, slumping back into her pillow.

"What a drama queen that guy is, huh?" I tease, sitting in the chair next to her bed.

She purposely looks away from me, but not before I see the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

"You know," I say, trying to make conversation, "I told them not to put the restraints on you."

"I'm not a rabid animal," she says, neither disagreeing nor agreeing. Wow, she's really good at this whole grudge-holding thing.

"Well, not all the time," I joke.

She whips her head around, her eyes blazing, as if there were tornadoes in each one. "Oh Gale, you're hilarious," she mocks, each word thrown like a dart.

"Geez Katniss, I'm sorry!" I say, putting my hands up. _What is it with girls and their mood swings?_

She looks down at her left hand, the needle transferring a steady flow of medicine to her blood. Her eyes crinkle up and she looks away. I can only imagine why she would hate needles so much.

She lifted her hand and showed it to me. "So what's up with this?"

"Well, after you passed out, your body kind of went into shut down mode. You just… stopped working."

"Stopped working?" she asks, her eyebrows pressing together in confusion.

I shrug, looking at the beeping monitors above her bed. "I guess your body just got… overwhelmed."

She closes her eyes, reality seeping back into her brain. "Why did you have to fix me?"

My eyebrows shoot up, and I stare at her in disbelief. "What?"

She opens her eyes, staring straight at me. "Why did you have to let me live? Peeta's gone, Gale! He's just…" A shiny tear forms in the corner of her eye, but she blinks hard, pushing it away. She whips her head away from me, hiding her face.

It was like I was just slapped in the face with rejection and envy. I've never seen Katniss so weak and vulnerable. The fact that she is so lost and helpless without Peeta made me sick… and hurt.

_I bet Katniss wouldn't even care that much if I disappeared,_ I think bitterly. A wave of shame overcomes me when I realize that I had already left her once. I wasn't going to do it again.

"You should know better than to act this way, Katniss," I say firmly.

"What are you talking about, Gale?" she asks, her voice weak. She doesn't turn to face me. "You know how much I care about Peeta."

I clench my fist, my cheeks burning up. "Yeah? Well how much do you care about your own children? Do you even remember them?"

I regret the words as soon as I say them, but I know it's just what she needs to hear. I take a deep breath, gripping the sides of my chair tightly.

"Of course I remember them," she says softly, and I can hear the guilt in her voice.

I sigh. "Katniss, you need to understand that there are people who depend on you. Peeta left, but only because he was trying to protect you and your kids. You're taking this way too hard on yourself! You didn't do anything wrong, Katniss. Peeta never stopped loving you. I'm sure he is as hurt by his decision as you are." Defending Peeta definitely isn't on my list fun things to do, but I was just so tired of seeing Katniss beat herself up over him.

"You can't stop living, Katniss," I say, grabbing her hand. "Your children need you. And just because Peeta isn't here doesn't mean that there are people who don't love you." I let the words sink in, hoping she understands what I am really saying.

She pulls her hand away gently.

"Why are you here, Gale?" she asks, locking my gaze with hers.

"You know why," I mumble.

"No, I mean, why are you _here_; as in, my hospital room. Why did you stay?"

"Why wouldn't I, Katniss?" I ask her, offended by the question.

"Oh, I don't know. You just have a tendency of leaving people when they need you the most," she says. She might as well have punched me right in the face, and I know she would if she had the chance.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm sorry?" I ask, frustrated.

"Until you finally convince me."

"And how long will that take?"

She turns away, pulling the blankets tighter. "You might as well just save your breath."

I sigh, leaning back into my chair. "So that's it?"

The beeping monitors seem even louder as Katniss' silence fills the room. I groan, slowly getting off of my chair.

As I was about to step out the door, I heard her take in a quick breath and I turned around to find her staring right at me.

"Bye," she whispers. The note of finality in her voice echoes around the room.

I smile at her, trying to remember how we were before the Capitol destroyed us. Trying to remember my best friend.

"We're not saying goodbyes yet, Catnip," I say, winking at her. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

She sighs, defeated, and rests her head on her pillows, closing her eyes. I softly shut the door behind me as I walk out. The doctors are talking in a small circle in the hallway. They look up at me as I turn to leave.

I start walking. "She's ready for you," I say, not even looking back.


	26. Epilogue

CHAPTER 26: EPILOGUE

**Rue**

I have heard the stories of my mother. People often get excited when I mention her name. To others, my mother will always be the Mockingjay.

I have heard the stories of my father. Not as tough as my mother was, but he would do anything for her. The star-crossed lovers, people used to call them.

My father died when I was only six. My mother tells me he loved us very much. When people ask, I say it was an accident. A drunken man who got violent. It sounds simple enough. It sounds real.

But the truth isn't always simple. Lies are much easier than the truth. Sometimes they're even easier to believe. I had been handing out lies my whole life.

Last week, when my mother asked if I had finished my homework, I replied yes. Lie.

In class, when my teacher asked if I read the assigned chapters last night, I told her that I read them and loved them. Lie and lie.

For ten years, I've been feeding myself and others around me the same lie over and over. My father died in an accident. A drunken man attacked him. It was a careless mistake. Lie. Lie. Lie.

Sometimes, the truth hurts. Sometimes, it's easier to keep on lying to people, to live your life comfortably in the shadow of lies, protecting yourself from the harshness of reality. But I know I cannot live like this forever. I know that there are many stories yet to be told, many tears left to be shed.

My mother is a manipulator of lies. She weaves them into a protective net around my brother and me. I liked that net. It was familiar and safe. But my mother created that net with the intent to rip it to shreds. My mother lives in the harsh reality of this world. She surrounds herself with the bitter truth.

My father's death was no accident. There was no drunken man involved in his passing.

My father died because of the Capitol.

xXx

_Last week…_

"_Rue, I think you are ready to hear about what happened to your father," mother says, sitting down next to me. I look up from the TV, trying not to be annoyed that she interrupted me._

"_Sure," I say, turning off the TV. I move away from her, not sure what to make of her expression. Her grey eyes are dull and the corners of her mouth are tight, as if she's trying not to cry._

"_You know how we met, right sweetie?"_

"_The Hunger Games," I say, remembering the horrible lessons we have in school that teach us about how life used to be before the Rebellion. Back when the Capitol was in control._

"_Yes, the Games," my mother whispers, looking down at her fingers as if she was holding on to a memory. She looks up at me, her eyes glossy. "I want you to know about your father. Now that you're sixteen, I think you can handle it. But you can't say a word to your brother."_

_I squirm in my seat, nervous about what she's going to tell me._

"_You father loved you and your brother very much," she says, looking away again. "He would never leave you on purpose, never," she says, her voice cracking a little on the word leave._

"_I know that, mother," I say, trying to calm her._

"_He was… affected by the Games. More so than I was."_

"_Because he was captured?" I ask. My mother winces at this, just like she always does when I bring up the Games._

"_Yes, that was part of it." She takes a deep breath. "The Capitol did some very… horrible things to your father."_

"_I know mother, we've covered this in school."_

"_Not all of it," she says softly. "They messed with your fathers mind. And for a long time he was very different."_

"_Different?"_

"_Hijacked," my mother says, releasing the word in one breath, as if she was relieved to finally let it go._

_I gasp, my heart skipping a beat. "He was hijacked?"_

_We've learned about that in school, when we briefly covered the Capitol's history. But no one had ever mentioned this to me. No one had told me that my father had been hijacked._

_A tear escapes my mother's eye, running down her wrinkled face. "It was horrible. Nothing that anyone should ever experience."_

"_But what happened?" I ask, eager to hear more._

"_Well, he was able to overcome that, but…" my mother presses her lips together, looking at her fingers again, still holding that memory._

"_But what?"_

"_It came back."_

"_It did?" I ask in disbelief. "When?"_

_My mother stands up, wobbling on her frail legs. "That's all you need to know, dear."_

_My mouth hangs open. "You can't just leave me hanging mom!"_

_She laughs lightly, cupping my cheek. "You remind me of myself when I was your age."_

"_Mother," I say seriously, grasping her hand. "You said it yourself, I can handle the truth."_

_She stops smiling, a sad look in her eyes. "I know, sweetie. But I can't."_

xXx

_SWOOSH!_

I release my arrow, holding the bow steadily as I aim at the rabbit in the bushes ahead. The arrow lands just above the rabbit's head, scaring it away. I sigh in frustration.

"I'll never be as good as my mother." When Gale offered to teach me how to hunt, I accepted eagerly, wanting to make my mother proud.

Gale laughs, his eyes creasing at the corners. "You know what? You remind me of her."

I roll my eyes. "Like I haven't heard that before."

"How is she?" he asks me as we start making our way through the woods.

"Same as ever," I say. "She told me about my father yesterday," I add nonchalantly.

Gale tries to hide his surprise, but I see his back stiffen slightly. "Oh did she?"

I nod, loading another arrow. "She didn't tell me the whole story, but it was pretty easy to figure out the rest."

Once again, another lie. It was impossible for me to figure out the rest. Where did my father go? Did they ever find him again? Did he really die?

Questions flutter around my mind like a swarm of insects that never want to leave you alone. My mother was still keeping me in her net. She was protecting me. But now I found it unfair. I wanted to know about my father. I wanted to live with the truth, to finally break through the net.

"Your father was a great man," Gale says, acting like the ever-supporting friend he always has been.

"Did you know him well?"

Gale sighs. "Your mother and I were always good friends, ever since we were young. Your father and I had somewhat of a rocky start to our… friendship," he says, sounding unsure about the last part.

"It's OK, you don't have to hide the truth from me," I say, tired of everyone trying to 'protect my feelings'. "If you hated him, you hated him."

"I didn't hate him," Gale says. "I envied him."

"Because he was with my mother," I say, laughing. "Yes, I know the whole story, no need to tell me again."

My mother and Gale had told us all the funny stories from when they were growing up. I always cringed when they brought up the part about their 'difficult relationship'. They had loved each other, that much I knew for sure. But now they were just really good friends.

Gale smiles at me. "Well, we better get going soon; we don't want to miss dinner. Dahlia will throw a fit if I'm late again."

Gale, his wife Dahlia, and their two kids always came over every Friday night for dinner. It was somewhat of a tradition by now.

Gale and Dahlia met when I was nine, and they had their first child when I was eleven. We were all somehow one big family, the seven of us.

"Are you ok?" Gale asks me, nudging my shoulder.

"Huh?" I ask, snapping out of my daze. "Oh, yeah. I was just thinking."

He looks at me worriedly.

"I'm fine." I say.

"Are you sure?"

I roll my eyes, gripping my bow tighter. "I'll tell you what, we can go to dinner _after_ I shoot my first rabbit."

Then a mockingbird's song echoes through the forest and I close my eyes, taking in the sound that always reminds me of my mother. My ears hungrily swallow the notes, savoring each and every one. I sing out a small tune, the same one that my mother used in the Games. She used it to communicate with Rue, the young tribute from District 11 and my namesake.

After a moment of silence, the woods come alive with music, the notes harmonizing and blending and forming the most perfect song I've ever heard.

Gale shakes his head in disbelief, staring at me with an odd expression on his face.

"What?" I ask him, feeling my face to make sure there is nothing on it.

"Nothing," he says, smiling at me. "You just remind me of your mother so much."

"Well, I would resemble her even more if I actually caught something," I tease, waving around the bow in my hands.

He chuckles, gesturing for me to go ahead. "Lead the way."

I confidently raise my bow and start walking forward, moving deeper and deeper into the trees. It's just me and the forest and the music and I'm happy. I know that one day I will uncover the truth about my father; I will know the real reasons that stripped him from my life. But for now, I am stuck in my mother's protective net, shielded from the truth.

I know that she will unravel the net thread by thread. She is the Mockingjay after all, and she does not live the life of a coward. She lives with the truth. And so will I... one day. But for now I am safe. I am protected, guarded, loved, and safe. I live my life with a little bit of the truth. Just enough for me to understand. And, deep in my heart, I know that is enough.

For now.

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N - I finally finished it! First off I want to thank you all for being so supportive and encouraging me to continue with this story. This is my first ever story and I couldn't be prouder of it... I've worked so, so, so hard on creating the perfect ending, and I hope that you guys enjoyed the story as much as I did. I'm actually really sad to be done with this story, but maybe there's another story coming...no promises (wink wink). This story was so much fun to write and I couldn't have done this all without you...so THANK YOU SO MUCH! I love you all and don't forget to comment and tell me how you found the story! ;) **

**Well I guess that's good bye (and I hate to sound redundant but...) for now...**


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